


Human

by BigBlueKitty



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F, Polyamory, demisexual!kate, tonal whiplash, werewolf!kate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBlueKitty/pseuds/BigBlueKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After waking up covered in blood, Kate Marsh really begins to question her choice in schools. At least she has a few friends to help with her furry little problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song [Human](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbCeyb9okac) by Daughter and also my love for all things werewolf.

She doesn’t remember much about that night.

She knows it had been warm so she went for a walk. She knows she wandered too far so she didn’t make it back to her dorm before nightfall.

After that, there’s nothing.

Roughly two weeks into her first semester at Blackwell Academy, Kate Marsh wakes up covered in blood.

The first thing she does, like any rational human in this situation, is scream. This action is quickly followed by Kate throwing herself off of the bed. This proves to be a mistake when she hits the floor with a loud thump and sharp, hot pain shoots through her back and shoulder.

Somewhere in the background, Kate hears Alice stir in her cage. The next thing she hears is several feminine voices shouting to shut the fuck up, people are trying to sleep.

Then there’s a knock at the door and a much softer voice on the other side. “Kate? Are you okay?” It’s Max.

Kate has enough common sense to know she should probably go to a hospital but the first thing that comes to her mind is _Shit, my mom will kill me if she finds out._ So she scrambles to her feet and slams her body against the door Max has been trying to open. “Kate? Kate!” The knocking becomes more frantic. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kate feels flattered that Max, her sort of acquaintance maybe hopefully friend, is so worried about her. Luckily, the functioning part of her brain shoves the thought aside for a later date.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” Kate calls. She wills her voice to stop shaking. Maybe that’s the rest of her body. Who the fuck knows? “Just a nightmare, I’m sorry!” She knows she’s a terrible liar but she hopes Max will drop it.

She lucks out because the knocking stops. There’s a pause on the other side and for a moment, Kate thinks Max has left (and that makes her feel kind of sad, which is another thought for later). Then, “You sure?” And damn it, she just has to sound so _concerned._

Kate takes a deep breath and steps away from the door. _It’s locked, there’s no need to be so dramatic_ she tells herself. “I’m fine, really. Sorry I woke everyone up.”

Max doesn’t reply for a long time. Kate bites her lip, willing the other girl to please just go away, _please._

She does. After what feels like several hours’ worth of tense silence, Max says, “If you’re sure. I’m in my room if you need me,” and leaves.

Kate lets out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and sinks against the door. _Crisis averted_ , she thinks. But what the hell even _is_ the crisis?

The pain in her shoulder returns again but it’s dull, like the ache of an old injury. When she stands to look in the mirror, it does look like an old injury – old and angry and fucking _huge_.

Kate takes off her shirt and cranes her neck and turns in circles but she can’t see the full extent of the damage. It feels like there’s a patch of flesh starting at the base of her neck and going who the fuck knows where down her back where the skin is just gone. Long and jagged, in sets of four, what Kate can only assume are claw marks run along the back of her left arm to her ribs. The worst is the wound on her left shoulder – a circle of puncture wounds, red and dotted with dried blood. It almost looks like something _bit_ her.

That’s what must have happened. Something, some animal, attacked her while she was in the forest. But then why doesn’t she remember it? And how the fuck did she make it back to her room?

For the first time, Kate takes full stock of herself and her room. She’s wearing her pajamas for one and not her bra. Her normal white button up lies in tatters by the side of her bed along with her cardigan and skirt. So, not only had she made it back to her dorm room after being attacked by a wild animal, she had the presence of mind to change clothes. But not enough to actually remember what happened. Great.

So, Kate thinks to herself, and on some level, she knows this isn’t a normal response to waking up covered in your own blood after apparently being mauled, but she’s already lied to Max and lying is bad and she’s having a hard enough time making friends, thank you very much.

Deep breath. Think.

Kate sighs. _So_ , she starts again _, I went for a walk. I was attacked by something. I made it back to my room. I changed into my pajamas. I fell asleep and now I don’t remember any of it._

Strange fucking night.

Kate frowns at her reflection. The initial adrenaline having worn off, she realizes just how dirty everything is. There’s blood on her bed, in her hair and on her face. All she wants right now is a hot shower and no less than forty-eight hours of sleep.

Slowly, mindful of her still sore injuries, Kate puts back on her pajama shirt (which is also covered in blood ew), gathers up her ruined bedding, bath stuffs, and a spare set of clothes, and heads for the showers.

 

* * *

 

The shower turns out to be less of a God send and more of a balancing act. Kate can’t stay under the cold water for too long without shivering; too hot and her wounds start to sting and burn. There’s blood, dried and fresh, washing over her along with the water and soap. It’s awful and painful and her body wash suddenly smells too strong to even consider using but she feels better when she steps out.

She pats her shoulder with a towel as gently as possible. There’s no blood, thank God, so she dresses and steps out.

Her bedding sits in a sink full of red water and she knows there’s no saving her sheets. She’ll throw them out on the way back to her room, she decides. Hopefully Samuel won’t notice. Maybe he’d just think someone was on their period. Kate makes a face. She really does not want to think about blood anymore. She rings out her sheets as best she can and pointedly does not watch the water flow down the drain.

Kate takes a moment to look at herself in the mirror. With the lights on, she can see just how tired she looks. She’s even paler than usual and dark circles mar her eyes. Kate sighs for what must be the tenth time that night. At least she’s clean.

She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. Her teeth feel too big for her skull and too sharp on her tongue. When she looks, though, they’re normal. “Get a grip, Kate,” she mutters under her breath.

She turns on the faucet and brings a handful of water to her mouth, rinses and spits. It does little to relieve the dryness. She wishes she remembered to bring her toothbrush.

Something bright and shimmery catches her eye. She jerks her head to look in the mirror and she swears her irises are glowing fucking _gold_. She blinks. They’re brown.

Kate runs a hand through her hair. “Get a grip,” she says again.

And she does. Kate forces her eyes (her brown eyes, _they’re brown, Kate_ ) away from the mirror, grabs her shit, and goes back to her room to sleep for the rest of the week if she’s lucky.

 

* * *

 

She’s not lucky, of course. If life as a whole has taught Kate anything, it’s that she’s never lucky.

Her alarm clock blares at her somewhere between fuck-my-life o’clock and the actual crack of dawn. Kate smashes the snooze button so hard, she thinks the clock might break, decides she doesn’t care, and falls back asleep.

Definitely less than nine minutes later, however, there’s a knock at the door. It’s soft and tentative and Kate knows it’s Max without even hearing her say, “Kate? It’s me. Are you awake?”

Kate contemplates yelling at her to go the fuck away or staying silent and pretending to sleep because that’s all she wants to do really, is sleep.

But damn it, Max is using her concerned voice and Kate just can’t ignore her, much less yell at her.

She sits up, calling through a yawn. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

Max is quiet for a moment. She’s probably expecting Kate to open the door as that would be the polite thing to do. Kate does not do this.

“Um,” Max starts oh so eloquently. “Can I come in?”

Shit.

Kate bolts out of her bed and runs to the door. “J-just give me a minute.” And that was a stupid thing to say because there’s no way Max isn’t going to notice the gaping fucking wound on her shoulder even if it doesn’t feel too bad when Kate touches it and come to think of it, it doesn’t actually feel like anything. Kate takes a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror.

It’s gone.

There’s nothing there. There’s no redness, no teeth marks, no scratches on her arm, nothing. Kate feels the back of her neck, down her back, under her shirt but it’s the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of sheets on her bed, Kate might think last night really was just a nightmare.

What the fuck is going on?

Max knocks on the door again, bringing Kate back to the present. “You okay in there?”

Kate runs a hand through her hair and her fingers snag on the tangles. That’s what she gets for not brushing it before she fell asleep. She opens the door. “Yeah, come in.”

Max walks into the room wearing her pajamas and a tired smile. She can’t have even showered yet, Kate thinks. “Hey.” Her voice is so soft and thick with sleep, Kate can’t quite process the word. But it’s a very simple word with a very simple meaning so she says it back.

“Hey.”

Max smiles so Kate smiles. Then Max looks away, shuffling her feet. Silence looms for several awkward seconds. _Get a fucking_ grip _, Kate Marsh_. Idly, she wonders when she started swearing so much. “Sorry,” she stutters out. She turns and looks for a brush if only to avoid looking at Max in her pajamas. “For the mess I mean. It’s kind of a sty in here and I haven’t had the chance to clean up yet.” It’s not. It’s as immaculate as ever really but Kate can’t quite reel her mouth in at the moment. “Or shower. So don’t judge me for looking like garbage.” She forces a laugh she hopes sounds genuine and wills herself to shut up.

Max visibly relaxes, wandering further into the room. “Be kind of hypocritical if I did that,” she says.

Kate’s laugh is a little more sincere this time. _Chill_ , she tells herself. She finally finds her hair brush and works on making herself look borderline presentable. _Max is nice. Max is your friend. There’s no need to be so anxious._

Kate watches her wander the room in the mirror. She stops to say hi to Alice and look at the photos lying on Kate’s desk. Max is nothing if not nosey. Kate finds it kind of endearing; it makes her feel cared for.

“Whoa what happened to this?”

Kate whips around at about a hundred mile per hour and tweaks her neck in the process. Shit, shit, _shit_. Did she find something else with blood on it? Kate runs through everything she threw out last night. Okay, sheets, clothes, shoes? Had she even been wearing shoes last night?

Max hold up Kate’s alarm clock, which isn’t bloody, thank God. It is, however, cracked down the middle where the two plastic halves have fallen away from each other.

In other words, it’s broken. It’s really, very broken.

“Hit the snooze a little too hard, huh, She Hulk?” Max laughs and Kate’s sure if she had any idea who She Hulk was, she’d be laughing, too.

As it stands, Kate does not know who She Hulk is and can only blink at the broken alarm in shock. She couldn’t have possibly hit it _that_ hard.  

Oh dear.

“Kate, you okay?” Max sets the clock aside hopefully to forget about it forever. “You’ve been kind of out of it all morning.”

Kate forces herself not to snap that morning started less than thirty minutes ago, not that she could tell because her fucking alarm clock is fucking _broken_. And she broke it. Kate broke her alarm clock like a damn twig.

For the third time in less than twenty four hours, Kate has to wonder just what the fuck is going on.

Kate shakes her head. “I’m fine, just, uh,” she struggles for a lie. What had she told Max last night again? She’s so bad at this and Max is going to know and be so _mad_.

“Your nightmare?” Max asks.

Kate wants to hug her; she settles on a smile she hopes is weary. It’s not too hard to make it look real. “Y-yeah, still shaken, you know? Didn’t sleep much after I woke up.” At least that part’s not a lie.

Max nods, placing a hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” She’s using her concerned voice again and Kate almost tells her everything about last night – waking up covered in blood, the vanishing injuries, her eyes possibly turning gold – but she doesn’t.

Kate couldn’t say why, if someone asked her, it was so important that she keep this a secret. She just knows. Max would just think she’s crazy anyway because really, injuries like that don’t just disappear overnight and she already threw away all her proof. Even if Max did believe her, which she wouldn’t because Max is a rational human being, what would become of Kate then? Max might keep the attack a secret if Kate asked but she couldn’t not tell the principle about a dangerous animal in the forest.

What if they found the animal that attacked her? Would it explain all this weirdness? What if there isn’t even an animal? Maybe she is just crazy.

No, she isn’t crazy but people would think she is. Or worse, wonder how she healed so fast and turn her into an experiment.

Kate shakes her head. “I don’t really remember it.” She tries to smile. She’s not technically lying so Max can’t get mad at her. “And no worries about the alarm clock. It was cheap anyway. I can just use my phone like everyone else. It’s just I already had it, you know?” _Shut up_ , she screams in her head. She really needs to work on this lying thing (which she isn’t doing anyway, not technically).

Max looks less than convinced but she knows when to drop it. It’s one of the reasons Kate likes her. “If you’re sure,” she says. She gives Kate’s shoulder a squeeze and it doesn’t hurt at all. It really is like last night never happened. “I gotta shower,” Max continues. “Stayed up way too late last night trying to finish our literature essay. I must reek.” She laughs.

“You smell like vanilla,” Kate says before she can stop herself and that’s a weird thing to suddenly notice. She does, though. Max smells like vanilla and metal and it’s a really weird combination. Kate doesn’t hate it.

Max’s brows arch. “I have vanilla candles in my room,” she says. “Didn’t think they were that strong.”

“They’re not,” Kate replies a little too quickly. “I-I mean, it’s nice. I like vanilla.” Which is a dumb thing to say but at least she doesn’t ramble. Kate counts it as a victory.

Max smiles. “Thanks.”

It’s silent again, but it’s not awkward this time. It’s not companionable either, just the natural end to a conversation. So, they make their excuses and part ways, promising to see each other in class.

As the door closes behind Max, Kate collapses back onto her bed. She can’t go back to sleep but she doesn’t want to go to class either. She doesn’t really think she’ll be able to concentrate as it is.

The day’s just starting and she’s already done with it. 

 

* * *

 

Going to class might actually be the worst decision Kate ever makes (even worse than going for a stroll in the forest alone at night). She doesn’t take a shower. She doesn’t even set foot in the bathroom. As soon as she walks by, her nose is practically assaulted by the scents of artificial lavender and citrus and who the fuck thought peppermint would make a good body wash? It doesn’t. It’s too strong and sweet. It smells like a candy cane. The whole hallway smells like a Bath and Body Works vomited all over it ( _do_ not _think about vomit, Kate, not a good way to start the day_ ).

So Kate doesn’t shower. She runs back to her room, telling herself she already showered last night anyway, gets dressed, and leaves as quickly as possible. She forgets her bag because _of course_ and refuses to go back for it. It hardly matters; she didn’t do any homework anyway.

This doesn’t stop her from worrying about it all the way to the cafeteria. She’s halfway to convincing herself to brave the girls’ dormitory when another scent catches her attention and it’s infinitely better than Stale Candy Cane or whatever the hell peppermint body wash is called.

No, this is bacon and sausage sizzling on an open skillet. Scrambled eggs and fried potatoes and fresh toast and it’s absolutely _beautiful._ Kate can hardly hear the warning bell over her stomach growling. She feels like she hasn’t eaten in a week. She’s pretty sure she’s drooling and there’s no way she’s not going to be late for class. She also doesn’t care. She makes a beeline for the cafeteria, running into no less than three people to whom she does not apologize in her haste. She has no time for politeness in the face of food – glorious, wonderful _food_.

So of course she runs into something bony less than ten feet from the doors. That bony something is actually a bony someone – Warren Graham to be exact, lanky and taller than Kate and on the floor. Oops.

“Sorry!” Kate says because she’s not _rude._ She grabs Warren’s hand without waiting for a reply and hauls him to his feet. “Sorry, are you okay?”

Warren stumbles a little. “It’s cool. I’m pretty used to landing on my ass. Damn, though, you’re stronger than you look. Think you dislocated my shoulder.” He rotates his arm probably for show because he’s smiling by now and Kate stopped caring some time ago actually. Her mouth waters in anticipation. She can already _taste_ the bacon.

Warren keeps talking and Kate doesn’t hear a word of it, far too busy willing him to _fucking move, don’t you see there’s food in there?_ Her stomach growls again (though it feels like something tickles her throat and _that’s_ a weird sensation) and she might actually kill Warren if he doesn’t get the fuck out of the way. She wants to grab him and _make_ him move. Her fingers twitch.

“Hey, you okay?”

He’s frowning at her and he just looks so earnest. Kate blinks. Had she _actually_ wanted to hurt him?

She must look as horrified as she feels because Warren’s frown deepens. He gives her shoulder a light pat. “You feeling okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Kate shakes her head. No, this is not okay. Nothing about this is okay.

She doesn’t say that, though. “Y-yeah,” she stutters out instead. “I’m fine. Just really hungry.”

Warren’s frown turns up into a sympathetic smile. “Tough break. Cafeteria closed like five minutes ago.”

Wait, what? “It’s closed?” But Kate can smell the bacon from here. It wafts through the hallway as if someone made it seconds ago, calling to her, taunting her.

Warren just nods. “Yeah, didn’t you hear the warning bell?”

No, no Kate did not hear any bells. She woke up at the crack of fucking dawn, how could the cafeteria already be closed? Kate kind of wants to cry. _Could this day get any worse?_

“Hey, no sweat,” Warren says and it takes a millisecond for the longest and loudest rant about the importance of breakfast to form on the tip of Kate’s tongue. Luckily for both of them, it takes Warren less time to produce a muffin from his bag and toss it to her. She catches it easily and takes back every mean thought she’s ever had about this perfect angel of a boy. “Snagged it for a snack later but I think you need it more.”

Kate barely gets out a thank you before swallowing the muffin in two bites. It’s banana nut, her favorite. Kate could kiss Warren right now. She settles for a grateful smile.

Warren looks equally pleased (and kind of fascinated). “Wow, you really were hungry,” he says. “Come on, we’re going to be late for Lit. Class. Gotta get our Bradbury on.” He sounds less than enthused.

Kate snorts as the two begin the walk to their classroom. “I actually like the books we read in class.”

Warren waves her off. “Yeah, yeah, books are great, don’t burn ‘em. It’s all self-serving if you think about it.”

Kate raises her brows. “How so?”

“Okay, so Bradbury was an author right? He made money writing books so obviously he’s going to write a book about how books are great. Keeps him paid.”

“I’m pretty sure the message in Fahrenheit 451 isn’t just ‘books are great’. It’s about the dangers of a mass interconnected culture losing their humanity to technology.”

“Yeah well, all I know is my smart phone lets me send pictures of kittens to anyone around the world. Sounds like Ray just hated happiness.”

Kate doesn’t point out the fact that the book was written in the late 50’s. Maybe Warren actually has a point. She shrugs. “That’s one way to look at it.”

Conversation lulls as they enter the classroom. Kate snags an extra copy of their assigned reading before class starts and Alyssa loans her a pencil and piece of paper. Warren gets Ms. Hoida off topic again and they spend the whole lesson discussing the benefits of a technologically interconnected world that somehow ends with a robot apocalypse. Kate doodles little robots on her paper instead of actually taking notes and starts to think today might not be so bad after all.

 

* * *

 

She’s wrong of course but really, what else is new?

The feeling that today might not suck as much as Kate originally though lasts about two minutes before the end of English. Despite being distracted the whole lesson, M. Hoida suddenly remembers they had essays due right before the bell rings. Kate doesn’t have her essay and has never been good at handling the disappointed faces of authority figures. Nonetheless, she’s allowed to hand it in by the end of the day for full credit and no one laughs. Kate counts her blessings. The list is woefully short.

As soon as Kate steps out of the classroom, sounds hit her from all sides. Lockers slam, heels click, and there are far too many people talking all at once. She catches words, sentences with no context.

“You going to the game tonight?”

“Man, I got so wasted.”

“Did you finish the homework?”

“Oh man, I am so fucking dead.”

Kate tries falling back into the classroom, hands over her ears. What the fuck is happening? Why is this happening? The PA system crackles and screams and it’s so damn _painful_. She winces. _Make it stop_ , she can barely hear herself think. _Just make it_ stop.

Then there’s a hand on her shoulder and the scent of vanilla fills the air. “Kate?” A soft voice rises above the chatter. Kate lets her hands fall away from her ears. “You okay?” It’s Max, using her concerned tone.

Kate blinks. The noise fades into the background like it never happened. She turns to Max who looks as concerned as she sounds. “No, yeah, I’m okay,” Kate replies. She’s getting pretty used to saying that.  

“You’ve been pretty out of it all morning,” Max says. “Do you need to see the nurse?”

“No, I’m okay. Just been one of those mornings you know?” Kate tries to smile reassuringly. Max looks unconvinced. “I promise I’m okay. I just didn’t get much sleep last night is all.”

Max bites her lip but she nods and lets it drop. “If you say so. Would have been a good way to get out of PE, though.”

Kate’s stomach drops.

Oh no.

She must look properly horrified because Max starts to laugh. Kate pouts. “Laugh it up, Caulfield; you’re worse at sports than I am.”

“Debatable. To be fair, very few people here are actually good at sports.”

“Well, it is an art school. I don’t think most people are here on athletic scholarships.”

“Better not let Zachary hear you say that.” Max bumps Kate’s shoulder again. “At least none of the football players are in our class. Can you say ‘testosterone overload’?”

Kate snorts for the second time that day. “No, we just get to deal with Victoria and her groupies.”

Max cringes as she should. Victoria isn’t any better at physical exertion than anyone else in the class really (as their class mostly consists of future artists and scientists and not even one cheerleader or swimmer; they’re more or less the bane of their overzealous teacher’s existence) but she acts like it. She’s competitive enough to pull it off, even, despite her lack of physical prowess. It’s pretty much torture for anyone who ends up against her team. Or on it really.

 

* * *

 

She ends up playing on Victoria’s team during dodge ball because the universe is clearly out to get her. For a moment, Kate has the very real urge to look skyward and ask God, “Really?” but she figures that would be petty. Divine plans and earthly tests of character and all that, but dodge ball with Victoria? _Really?_

 _It could be worse_ , Kate thinks to herself. Life is cruel, but their gym teacher does have a heart it would seem because somehow, she and Max end up together. “At least Victoria can’t throw things at us without her team suffering,” Max says. Kate’s not sure that little factoid will stop her but one can hope.

And speak of the Devil. “Just stay out of the way,” Victoria growls as she passes them and Kate doesn’t need to be told twice.

Kate is momentarily stunned when the whistle sounds but Max grabs her wrist and drags her away in the confusion. Foam balls fly and sneakers squeak and really this game is way too intense for a bunch of high school seniors. Kate quickly decides that everyone needs to fucking chill.

The pair sticks close together, running around and at least trying to look like they’re participating. This strategy goes okay for the first three minutes. Then Max gets hit in the hip and has to go sit down. Victoria makes a show of calling, “Way to go, Caulfield!” as if Max has single handedly doomed their team.

Kate’s head whips back and forth, searching for refuge alone in a war zone.  _Don’t be so dramatic, Kate, it’s only gym class._

Kate can’t explain the next thing that happens.

At some point in her frantic search for safe haven, someone lobs a ball directly at her head (which is an _illegal move_ , Nathan Prescott). Kate swears she _feels_ the ball coming. It’s the only way to explain how she manages to twist a hundred and eighty degrees and catch the thing two inches from her nose. Kate blinks owlishly at the ball. Nathan looks equally shocked.

Now, if there’s one adjective no one would ever use to describe Kate Beverly Marsh, it would be vengeful. She’s a good Christian and she knows it’s not her place to judge or decide who should be punished for wrongdoings. She knows that only one entity can decide what justice is deserved and it’s not her.

But damn it if that ball isn’t tempting and Nathan is standing right there looking totally flabbergasted.

So Kate throws the ball as hard as she can and hits Prescott square in his pretty little face. He goes down hard and it’s probably the best moment of Kate’s life or at least the highlight of her day.

Kate takes a quick glance at their teacher but he’s too distracted breaking up a fist fight to notice the illegal hit. She smirks and picks up another ball.

This might be more fun than she thought.

 

* * *

 

For once that day, Kate is actually right.

She races around the gymnasium at top speed, stopping only to throw or pick up more ammunition. She weaves and jumps and never gets hit, never stops, never tires, and it’s _amazing_. For the first time since she was a kid, she’s actually having fun in Physical Education.

For once, Victoria is too stunned to talk shit. Max cheers her on from the sidelines and Kate feels like she’s flying. Her heart beats in her ear, adrenaline coursing through her veins like a drug. She can barely hear their teacher call out, “That’s it, Marsh! That’s how you play the game!”

Kate loves it.

She loves it even more when Victoria gets hit and she and Stella take out the rest of the opposing team just as the bell sounds.

By the end of class, Kate is sweaty and red faced. The rest of her body catches up to her as her heart slows and she realizes just how sore she’s going to be in the morning. For now, she couldn’t care less.

Max runs up to her, positively beaming. “That was amazing!”

Kate laughs as some of her classmates give her pats on the back and their teacher calls out, “Good game, Marsh! Very good game!” Kate didn’t even think he knew her name.

Max bumps her shoulder. “Seriously, where have you been hiding that for the past two weeks?”

Kate blushes, giving Max a shy smile. She’s not used to so much attention. Usually she’d hate it but after such a shitty morning, it’s kind of nice. It makes her feel like maybe something can go right today. “I don’t know,” she shrugs in response. “I guess I just had a lot of pent up energy, you know?”

“Pent up rage, is more like it. Maybe you really are She Hulk in disguise. You ever turn green sometimes?”

Kate really needs to learn who She Hulk is because she doesn’t really sound like the kind of person one would associate with Kate.

Kate shakes her head. “I wouldn’t say that. Though it was pretty satisfying nailing Nathan Prescott in the face.”

Max actually bursts out laughing and Kate was wrong before. _This_ is clearly the highlight of her day.

 

* * *

 

Kate showers in record time and ducks out of the locker room just as the scents of lemon and rose start to mix together to form an unholy combination of Great in Theory Not in Practice. It’s better than the Stale Candy Cane and Rotting Flowers of the morning, but the whole thing proves too much for her nose to handle.

She tells Max she needs to grab her bag and hand in her English essay before lunch. They promise to meet up later and Kate heads back to the dorms alone.

The hallways are loud but the door to the courtyard is close. The September breeze offers a reprieve from all the sounds and smells. It gives Kate the chance to clear her head for once since she woke up.

She starts the slow and lazy walk to the girls’ dormitory.

She lets her mind wander to last night. There’s not much to think about, though. It’s like a recording. One minute she’s walking in the forest and then she’s waking up covered in blood the next. She remembers some things – birds chirping, the scent of late blooming roses, even the wind in her hair. Then the sun sets and there’s nothing. She hardly remembers the moon rising, let alone some animal attacking her.

Well, it was a full moon last night. All the weird things happen on full moons or so her sister says.

Kate shakes her head. _You’ve been watching too many movies_.

It is strange, though. If she hadn’t woken up without a blanket, Kate might have thought the whole thing had been a dream. But her sheets were long gone along with her wounds and Kate can’t help but wonder if maybe she’d just been sleepwalking when she’d thrown them out.

It actually seemed like a plausible explanation. If she’d been sleep walking and acting out the dream, maybe she would have thrown out clean sheets thinking they were blood soaked. But could she have really showered without waking up? Kate touches her hair. It certainly feels clean.

But no, hadn’t Max confirmed she’d definitely woken up when she asked about her nightmare that morning? They’d clearly had a conversation last night. Kate doubts anyone could be that coherent while sleep walking.

So what then?

Maybe she just heals really fast? Kate can’t remember a time she’d ever been severely injured in her childhood (her parents had made sure of that). She doesn’t think she’d even fallen off her bike when she’d been learning to ride without training wheels. With nothing to compare to, it seems possible.

Kate almost laughs at herself because no, no it’s really not. Those scratches needed surgery and her panicked mind hadn’t even allowed her to ask for a doctor. She probably needed an EMT and yet, less than twelve hours later, she’s walking around without as much as a bruise. Like everything is normal. Kate’s gotten better at lying over the past day but she’s not that good. This is not normal, no matter how much she tries to think it is.

There’s something else, too. The whole other level of weirdness that is her apparently heightened senses.

That started last night, too, hadn’t it? In the shower, her own body wash, a gentle peach scent, made her gag. She’d had to use her unscented facial soap. And then this morning, the girls’ dorm smelled like one big hodgepodge of fruits and flowers and spices. It never bothered her before. Why now?

Weirder still is when she ran into Warren. It really smelled like breakfast had just started. Even from ten feet away, she could smell the eggs and bacon and everything, as if she were walking downstairs to her father in the middle of making Sunday breakfast. But the cafeteria had been closed for five minutes.

Which reminds her of the _other_ weirdness. She really thought about shoving Warren. She’d really been ready to hurt him, wanted to even, if it would get him out of the way. That thought make her stomach churn.

Kate’s not a violent person. She can’t even kill the spiders that sneak into her room. She’s never been in a fight, not even with her sisters. The thought of violence sets her heart racing and not in a pleasant way, in the anxious kind of way, the way that makes her hands shake and legs turn to jelly.

Kate is _not_ a violent person.

But then, what was that in PE not twenty minutes ago? She’d actually hit Nathan freaking Prescott in the _face_ with a dodge ball. And she _liked_ it.

Admittedly, he did deserve it but still, it’s the principle. Kate’s never hit anyone, not even with a foam ball during a government mandated physical education class.

Of course, then there’s the fact that she caught the ball in the first place. Kate really can’t explain it. One second, she’s looking around, totally alone and panicked, and the next, there’s a ball in her hands. She didn’t even hear it coming. She just caught it. Kate’s almost positive her reflexes are not that good.

She doesn’t even want to think about the incident in the hallway after Lit class.

Kate sighs and opens the door to her room. Alice greets her with an excited stomp and Kate decides maybe she’ll just skip lunch and hang out with her bunny. Her bunny is lovely and quiet and doesn’t smell like body wash.

Kate kicks off her shoes and throws herself onto her bed. _Just a short nap_ , she tells herself.

She sleeps through her next two classes. 

 

* * *

 

Kate wakes up at three fifty in the afternoon to two new texts and has to run to hand in her essay before the day is over.

When the four o’clock bell rings, Kate wants to cry from sheer joy. Finally, this shit storm of a day is officially over and she can enjoy her weekend in contemplative solitude.

Head down, earbuds in, Kate manages to avoid social interaction with nigh unprecedented skill (not that she’s ever been a social butterfly to begin with but that’s neither here nor there). In truth, Kate’s just grateful for the day’s end. The hallways don’t seem nearly as loud with music to muffle the voices. _It’s going to be okay_ , she tells herself.

She checks her messages – one from Max, one from Warren, and none from her parents asking why she hadn’t gone to her afternoon classes. She knows she’ll need to think of an excuse eventually but not right now.

What could she really say, though? “Sorry, Mom, I was mauled by an animal last night and didn’t sleep much. Hospital? Oh no need. I was better by morning!” Yeah, right. She’d definitely be hospitalized after that and not for the bite on her shoulder.

Kate heaves a sigh. _Something_ definitely happened in that forest. Kate wishes she’d had the forethought to save her bloody sheets or take a picture. At least then someone would have to believe her.

Maybe it’s better if she just doesn’t think about it. Whatever animal was out there last night is probably gone by now anyway. Her newly sensitive ears and nose is all probably just a reaction to stress. Hypervigilance, she thinks. It totally explains all the weirdness in gym class and freaky healing powers.

Totally.

Kate can’t be bothered to reply to her messages but she reads them nonetheless. Warren’s doesn’t need a response anyway, reading, “Yo heard you knocked Nathan Prescott on his ass in Phys Ed today! I bow down to your greatness, Kate Marsh. Wish I’d been there to see it, though!”

Kate smiles a little. She has a sneaking suspicion that he’s not going to let this story die any time soon.

Max’s is much different. Kate can almost hear her gentle voice as she reads, “Hey, Kate. Didn’t see you at lunch. Thought you might have gone to your room to pass out. Don’t worry, I covered for you. Feel better. XOXO.” Kate kind of loves Max.

She very nearly makes it to the courtyard without attracting any attention so it only makes sense that less than two feet from the door, she knocks into someone. That someone spits out, “Watch where you’re fucking going,” because that someone is Nathan fucking Prescott.

_Really?_

_Calm down, he probably doesn’t even notice it’s you._ Kate mutters out a hopefully sincere “sorry” and tries to side step him.

The universe takes this prime opportunity to remind Kate that she’s not that lucky. Nathan does in fact notice who she is and seems quite perturbed by her presence. No, perturbed really isn’t the right word. Fucking pissed probably works better.

So maybe he remembers PE.

He grabs Kate’s arm and yanks her back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice is positively dripping with venom.

“I was kind of hoping to go back to my room but clearly someone didn’t fill his quota of douchebaggery today.” The words leave Kate’s mouth before she can stop them and yeah that’s probably not going to go over so well with Nathan.

For the second time today, Kate’s right. Nathan’s expression switches from shock to rage so fast, Kate surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash. Maybe he does and just ignores it. He does look vaguely pained (but not in the way that makes Kate feel bad, more in the murderous kind of way). He all but bears his teeth and Kate feels the hairs on her neck stand on end.

“One lucky shot in PE and suddenly you’re big man on campus,” he growls. “News flash, little girl, I own this school. So don’t think you can talk to me like that.”

The rational part of Kate’s mind screams at her to just be quiet and he’ll get bored and let her leave. It wills her to lower her eyes and say she’s sorry even though she isn’t. Nathan squeezes her arm painfully.

Suddenly, he’s against the wall, pinned in place by hands too small for the strength they possess. Lockers clatter in the most satisfying way when his head snaps back, making painful contact. Distantly, Kate realizes her earbuds popped out some time earlier. She hardly notices. A deep, throaty growl reaches her ears.

Nathan struggles, throwing punches and kicks wildly. Kate’s grip tightens. There’s flesh under her nails.

“Let go of me, you crazy bitch!”

Kate can’t hear him over the sound of her own blood pumping. Blood pumping, spilling. Skin tearing. She wants to. She _wants_ to.

“What the hell?”

“Kate?”

Soft, gentle tones, she sounds so concerned. Vanilla fills the air. Kate blinks.

_Oh God, what am I doing?_

She throws herself away from Nathan as if she’s been burned. Her mind lapses into _oh God_ on repeat. She could have… She was about to…

“Kate, are you all right?” Max’s hand is on her shoulder like a weight keeping her on Earth.

“The fuck do you mean is she all right? She’s the one who attacked me!”

“Chill, dude, you’re fine.”

“Like Hell! Did you see her?”

The conversation continues unheard as Max leads a petrified Kate outside. The September breeze hits her like a literal breath of fresh air, rapidly clearing her still foggy mind. It’s becoming very apparent what might have happened if Max and her friend (Warren, Kate’s mind supplies) hadn’t shown up.

“What happened in there?” Max asks and Kate’s not sure what to tell her. She settles for the truth. Mostly.

“I was walking back to my dorm when I bumped into him. He grabbed me and I just kind of shoved him.”

“Against the wall?” Kate can only nod. “Kate, you looked ready to strangle him.”

Kate thinks she would have done something much, much worse. It’s a thought that terrifies her. She clenches her fists to stop her hands from shaking. Her nails dig into her palms.

“Can’t really blame her.” Warren steps through the doors and reenters the conversation. “Guy deserves a good beat down.”

“Not from me.” Kate shakes her head so ready for this conversation to be over. “Look, I’m really just over this whole day. I’ll talk to you about it later, though, okay Max?”

Max, bless her, drops the subject. “Okay but I wanna know what’s going on, okay? You’ve been acting seriously weird all day.”

Kate nods. “We’ll talk about it later. Promise.”

They share a small smile. Kate tells herself it’s going to be okay. She’s not sure she means it.

“Yeah, yeah, you two go have your secret girl talk,” Warren says. “I’ll just be over here thinking about monster trucks and football and stuff.”

Max arches an amused brow. “Stuff?”

“You know, guy things. Football is a guy thing and I am a guy, you know.”

Kate has to hold a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She smells blood.

Max nods skeptically. “Uh huh, right.”

Warren actually pouts. “Hey, I’m totally a guy! It even says so on my driver’s license.”

“Oh I believe that. Just not that you actually know the rules of football.”

“Sure I do. A bunch of large men get together and when one of them catches the ball, they all tackle him. It’s how straight men express their homosexual desires with as few boners as possible.”

Kate takes that as her cue to leave. “Well, you two have fun discussing the homoerotic undertones of football. I’m going to my room.”

Thankfully, nothing else interrupts Kate on her way back. She falls into bed, emotionally drained and ready to forget today ever happened.

 

* * *

 

The forest is far too quiet. Slow footsteps echo, breaking the silence like crashing thunder. Not even the wind dares disturb the trees on a night like this.

She’s alone or so she hopes. The sun, her only company, is fading quickly, giving way to inky blackness. Silvery light overtakes golden warmth. The forest looks suddenly very ethereal. It’s frightening.

It is far too quiet.

Footsteps echo but are they hers? No, it’s something else. Something follows behind her, close, too close. She quickens her pace. The moon is too bright and the night is too cold and everything is too much. Her heartbeat is too loud in her ears. She knows the something can hear it.

A growl signals an attack. She falls. She screams. Flesh tears, muscle, arteries, tendons ripped to shreds as easy as tissue paper. She screams and screams and blood pours. So much blood, warm and thick and fresh.

She screams.

She stops.

The forest is quiet.

 

* * *

 

On the morning of September twenty first, a woman is found dead in the Blackwell Academy parking lot.


	2. Chapter 2

Kate wakes up to the sun beating down on her from all sides. She’s sore and cold and she feels so inexplicably filthy. Her hair sticks to her face. She feels wet and clammy, as if she’d gone to sleep in sweaty clothes. But she’s cold, so cold. Bare skin prickles with the wind. Is she even wearing clothes?

Someone screams in the distance. Kate jolts upright, eyes wide, body tense and alert. She strains her ears. For a moment, it’s quiet. Kate waits on bated breath.

There’s chatter, far away, excited, cautious, even scared. It’s difficult to pick out the words. She catches phrases here and there.

“Oh, my God.”

“What the fuck?”

“Dude, check…”

“Is that really…”

“Sick, bro!”

“Gross!”

The rest is too quiet. ‘What the fuck’ and ‘Oh, my God’ seem to be the most popular but shouts of disgust come in close second.

“All right, get back to your dorms! This is a crime scene! Go on!” one voice cuts above the others and it’s oddly familiar. Kate can’t place it but she _knows_ she knows it from somewhere.

Almost instinctively, Kate sniffs the air around her. She smells gas exhaust and burnt rubber like a parking lot on a hot day. Kate shivers. It is definitely not hot out.

There’s something else, too. Metallic and strong enough to make her head spin, the undeniable scent of blood rises above even the last blooming roses. Something died. Recently.

Kate stands and has to lean against a tree to keep hers legs from collapsing beneath her. Her head aches. She can feel dirt under her nails, on her skin, in her hair. She’s naked and has no idea where the _fuck_ she is.

She has to walk. She can’t explain why but she knows she needs to get to the parking lot. There’s familiarity in those voices. There’s safety. She’s not safe here.

Walking is hard. Her whole body screams at her to stop, to rest. She’s bleeding from somewhere, her hip she thinks, but it’s slow and not worth her attention right now. She just needs to walk. She focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. She needs to get home. Everything will be fine as long as she can make it home.

Home. She’s going home. But where is home?

Kate shakes her head to clear her racing thoughts and immediately regrets her decision. Her stomach turns and her vision spots and she just wants to fall over and die in the forest. She already feels like she’s dying as it is.

“No, no way,” she tells herself. Her voice is rough. She suddenly realizes how dry her throat feels. “You can’t die here.”

So she walks.

* * *

 

Kate doesn’t know how much time has actually passed but it certainly feels like it’s been a few years. Her feet bleed from stepping on too many broken twigs and thistle leaves but she keeps walking. She can smell the gasoline and blood and tarmac but it mixes with roses and conifers. It’s confusing and disorienting and she can’t think straight with this raging headache. 

Kate looks around for the hundredth time and takes a deep breath. Fresh car fumes fill her nostrils and Kate never knew pollution could smell so damn good. She forgets about her sore legs and bleeding hip and runs after the scent.

The forest blurs around her, the world falling away in the face of that smell. Her lungs burn but she doesn’t care. Home is so close. She stumbles, she falls, but she never stops running. She hears a low rumble, like a car engine, calling to her – calling her home. Kate pauses when blacktop comes into view. Standing at the edge of the forest, she throws her head back and howls.

A roar of the engine answers her.

She bolts forward, faster than her bloody feet should be able to carry her. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. She’s _home_.

She takes two steps onto the asphalt and is immediately hit by a car. It’s a truck to be exact – an old, off tan truck that sounds and smells exactly like the one she followed home. It’s not the warmest welcome she’s ever experienced.

It doesn’t really register that she’s actually on the ground until she’s being lifted off of it. Two arms accompanied by a chorus of “oh shit, what the fuck” sit her up, gingerly. Kate appreciates the gentleness because she’s suddenly very aware that everything fucking _hurts_. Her body screams in protest with every movement, there isn’t a single inch of skin that doesn’t sting or ache, and she’s pretty sure the wound on her hip reopened. Had it ever even closed? Kate doesn’t know but it’s sure as shit bleeding now.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” The voice attached to the arms says and really, that’s a stupid question and Kate’s sure she would say so if she had the strength. Incidentally, she doesn’t. She has to focus on walking as the arms (belonging to a girl with blue hair because _of course they do_ ) lead her to the truck that fucking ran her over.

Kate wonders how this became her life. She can’t come up with an answer. It’s a little disconcerting.

Kate’s backside hits cushioned fabric and she nearly passes out. It’s not the most comfortable seat ever but it beats the ground by a long shot. Then the girl shakes Kate’s shoulder, forcing her to awareness, and that’s pretty rude all thing’s considered. But then she’s throwing a blanket around her (because yeah, she’s still naked) so Kate forgives her.

“What’s your name?” the girl asks. When Kate doesn’t answer, the girl shakes her shoulder again. “Hey, hey, it’s not nap time. What’s your name?”

Kate really wishes it was nap time. Sleep sounds so nice right now. “Kate,” she says. “My name’s Kate.”

The other girl nods, not offering her own name which, rude.

Kate’s head lulls to the side to rest against the window. They’re driving away from Blackwell, away from home. Considering what she went through to get there, Kate should probably care more that they’re leaving. But the car is comfortable and warm and smells mostly like weed but also kind of sweet and familiar. Maybe that should be a red flag. Kate ignores it.

After driving several minutes in silence, Kate remembers this is still a stranger’s car and she doesn’t actually know where she’s being taken. So she asks, “Where are we going?”

The girl, whose name Kate still doesn’t know, pulls out a cigarette with her teeth. She doesn’t even ask before lighting it and Kate takes back what she thought earlier. Blanket or no blanket, this lady is _rude_. “Hospital, dumbass. You look like you spent the night in the woods.”

Kate thinks that’s a very likely possibility. Still, she drags herself into a properly seated position. Hospital visit means parental concern means probably being removed from Blackwell. Kate really does not want to deal with that on top of everything else. “No hospital.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” the girl snaps back. “You look ready to keel over. Surprised you haven’t already.”

Kate would be, too, if she hadn’t already been through this two nights ago. Is this going to be a regular thing? She really hopes not.

The girl flicks on her turn signal and Kate knows they’re less than five miles from the hospital. She grabs the steering wheel on impulse. Her nails are long and sharp like claws. She barely notices. “No hospitals,” she says.

The girl opens her mouth, probably to tell Kate to fuck off, but she stops short. Her eyes widen. She glances between Kate’s face and white knuckled hand gripping the steering wheel. Kate can almost hear her terrified heart beating in her chest. Kate doesn’t realize she’s baring her teeth until her throat vibrates with a growl. The girl stops breathing.

Kate blinks. Since when had growling become an appropriate response to someone trying to help her? Granted, this someone had also run her over. Still, Kate releases the steering wheel and has the courtesy to look properly repentant. “Please,” she whispers.

The girl hesitates. She’s probably considering throwing Kate out of the car right there. _Nice going, Kate,_ she thinks. _Now you’ll have to walk back to Blackwell naked._

The blinker goes off and the girl, whose name Kate still does not fucking know, heaves a long suffering sigh. “Fine, but if you die, I’m dumping your body on the side of the road for the fucking crows. And put that shit away.” She shoves Kate’s hovering hand away from the steering wheel. Her nails are still too long and sharp to be normal.

“Sorry,” Kate says.

“There’s something hella wrong with you.” The words are muttered and Kate’s not sure she’s supposed to hear them. She agrees anyway.

They drive in silence for seventeen minutes according to the dash clock. At some point they double back, closer to the residential areas. They must be going to the girl’s house. Speaking of…

“What’s your name?” Kate asks. The girl startles at the sudden noise. She blinks at Kate. Kate blinks back. “I’m um, I’m Kate.”

“You’ve said.”

Kate frowns at her dismissive tone. This conversation, if it could even be called that, is over. Kate sinks back into the seat. That’s fine, as long as she can take a shower wherever they’re going. Her wounds stopped hurting some time ago but the dried blood and dirt itches. She picks at a particularly nasty patch on her arm with her nails (her normal, _human_ nails).

“Chloe.”

Kate nearly rips her skin off, she jumps so bad.

The girl clears her throat. “Chloe. That’s my name? You asked.” Kate can’t respond before the car pulls to a stop. “Anyway, we’re here.”

Here is indeed a house. It’s tall and quaint and the front is painted half blue, half cream. Kate wants to say something like ‘it’s nice’ or ‘it doesn’t look like the kind of place a murderer would live’ but Chloe’s radiating anger and hatred and Kate really does not want to get on her bad side. Chloe slam the car door so hard, Kate thinks it might fall off. It doesn’t.

Kate scrambles after her, blanket held tightly to her body (which is still naked oh, God).

The inside is much like the outside. It’s lived in, which Kate knows is the nice way to say messy, but she really means it as a compliment. Her own house is always so clean and white. She remembers old school friends saying they didn’t even think they could sit on the furniture, they were so afraid of messing it up. She wonders if Max felt like that in her room yesterday.

She doesn’t have too long to look around. Chloe doesn’t look back on her way up the stairs and Kate doesn’t really want to be alone in a strange house right now.

Chloe’s bedroom (Kate assumes but she really doubts she’s wrong here) smells much like her car – mostly weed but also something sweet underneath. It reminds Kate of Max (the sweetness, not the weed).

Chloe must be bent on making sure Kate doesn’t see an inch of this house because within seconds, she’s throwing clothes and a hairbrush her way. Kate only stumbles a little on the hairbrush and doesn’t even drop the blanket. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right. Try not to bleed all over the towels. There’s a first aid kit in the medicine cabinet so I guess yell if you need anything. But try not to need anything, that’s hella not my thing.”

With that, Chloe throw herself back onto the bed. She lights a cigarette and Kate knows when she’s not wanted. She closes the door behind her. Cigarettes smell bad enough without the heightened senses. Now her senses are heightened, great. She’d hoped they’d go back to normal after a good night’s sleep. Though did a romp in the woods really count as a ‘good night’?

Kate chooses not to think about it.

* * *

This shower is much like the one she’d taken the previous night. The hot water stings and the cold water stings worse and she can’t stay under the spray for more than a minute at a time. One of the four shampoos is unscented (and thank God because she was so not looking forward to menthol being the best option). The shower is short and awful but at least she’s clean. She wraps her hair in a towel and finally has the chance to inspect her body.

She’s not bleeding anymore so at least Chloe won’t have to worry about the towels. There are small cuts and bruises all over her body but they look old, even though they have to be from last night or this morning. Kate thinks they were probably a lot worse just a few hours ago. Kate runs a finger along a cut on her upper lip. It’s already scabbing over. _What’s happening to me?_

The worst injury is the one on her hip. A thick indent runs as long as her torso is wide. It’s deep, probably needs stitches, and red around the outside but it’s not bleeding. Kate takes a gauze pad from the first aid kit and covers it anyway.

The clothes aren’t really her style. The jeans are ripped and the shirt is a little low but beggars can’t be choosers so she puts them on. They fit almost perfectly. She indulges in a little twirl in front of the mirror and tries not to think about her grandmother rolling in her grave. Kate does what she can with her hair, wishing the whole time she had a hair tie, but it’s better than it had been.

The smell of cigarette smoke floats down the hall as soon as Kate opens the door. She stands in the hallway for a solid three minute. She really does not want to go back into the bedroom right now but looking through the house seems so rude. If there’s one thing Kate’s mother instilled in her as a wee lass, it’s don’t be rude to people who let you use their shower after they hit you with their truck that smells like weed. She steels herself and walks back to Chloe’s room.

Oh, God, cigarettes are really, really awful. Kate stops two inches from the door, does a one eighty, and heads down the stairs. She resists the urge to open every single window in the house with very impressive self-control, she thinks. She’ll just take a few minutes to breathe in the relatively smoke-free air. If she happens to look at the pictures on the cork-board while she’s down there breathing, well, they were on display right?

The girl in these pictures is very different from the one upstairs. For one thing, she’s got blonde hair, probably a shade darker than Kate’s own. For another, she doesn’t seem at all angry with the world at large. Kate wonders what happened.

The cigarette smell fades soon enough. Kate’s desire to look around is apparently weaker than her desire to not be rude so she goes back up the steps.

* * *

 

Without the cigarette and weed smell, Kate thinks the room would be pretty nice. It’s large and filled with soft sunlight. It’s messy and rebellious and everything Kate’s room has never been. Chloe seems to be a lot of things Kate’s never been. 

“She lives,” Chloe breaks through Kate’s musings. “You look better. Guess you really didn’t need that hospital, huh.”

“I feel better,” Kate says. “Thanks. For letting me use your shower. And, um, for the clothes.”

Chloe shrugs. “Least I could do after almost running your ass over. You’re not pissed about that are you?”

Kate shakes her head. “I’ve been through worse. Probably just last night.”

“Yeah, what the fuck were you doing in the woods this morning anyway? There was a body found, you know.”

Kate blinks because no, no she did not know that. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you were doing out there or you don’t know there was a body found?”

“Both? I woke up in the woods this morning but I don’t remember how I got there.”

Chloe arches a brow. “Too much partying? I mean I knew you Blackwell kids always got the best shit but damn, to wind up in the woods naked and not remember? What were you on and will you share?”

Kate must look as horrified as she feels because Chloe bursts out laughing. Kate feels herself blush and that only makes Chloe laugh harder. It takes a solid minute for her to calm down.

“Are you done?” Kate asks.

Chloe wipes her eyes, the last of her giggles dying. “Sorry, sorry. You shoulda seen your face, though. Wish I got a picture.”

Kate only pouts harder.

“Fine, fine, I’m done,” Chloe says. “So, not much of a partier I take it?”

Kate sighs. “You kidding? My mom would disown me.”

“Not if she didn’t find out.”

Kate tries not to roll her eyes. “Okay, then, I would disown me.” And that doesn’t even make sense. Kate shakes her head and changes the subject. “So a body was found in the Blackwell parking lot?”

“Subtle,” Chloe says. She sits up finally and taps the bed next to her. Kate takes a seat, almost too grateful she doesn’t need to stand around and look awkward anymore. “Also, I don’t think I mentioned anything about the Blackwell parking lot.”

Oh, right. Shit. “Well, that’s where you were so I just figured you know.” Chloe looks unimpressed. Kate can’t blame her. “What were you doing hanging around there anyway?”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. But if you must know, I wanted to know who it was that they found.”

Kate waits for her to elaborate. She doesn’t. Kate asks, “Why did you want to know?”

Chloe looks away, frowning. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t my mom, okay?”

Kate furrows her brow because she never could only lift one.

Chloe huffs. “My mom works at the diner, okay? A woman left the diner sometime last night; she’s the one they found this morning. My mom wouldn’t answer her phone so, I wanted to make sure.”

Kate smiles. That’s actually pretty sweet.

Chloe rolls her eyes when she catches Kate. “Oh shut up. It was stupid and paranoid but she’s my mom. Bite me.”

Kate shakes her head. “No, no, I think it’s sweet. You care about your mom.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not supposed to be talking about me.”

Kate’s smile falters. She sighs. “I honestly don’t know why I was in the woods. I went to sleep as soon as I got back to my room after classes yesterday. When I woke up, well, you know the rest.”

Chloe nods. She stays quiet for a few moments, maybe thinking, maybe waiting for Kate to say something else. Kate doesn’t really know what to say right now.

Eventually, Chloe asks, “So how did you know the body was in the parking lot? And none of that bullshit about me being there. You didn’t even know why I was there to begin with.”

Kate runs a hand through her hair.She’s not used to it being down. She thinks maybe she should cut it. “I guess I could kind of smell it.”

“You could kind of smell it?” Chloe repeats the words slowly, as if she’s talking to a child.

“I don’t know how, okay? When I woke up, I smelled blood and car fumes and there were people whispering so I just followed it. When I got out of the woods, there you were.”

“Wait, you heard people whispering from all the way in the woods?”

“Yeah?”

“And you’re not totally freaking out about this?” Chloe honestly looks too excited about this whole thing.

Kate bites her lip. “It’s not the first time.” Chloe looks at her expectantly and damn, Kate really needs to learn how to say no.

She tells Chloe everything she probably should have told a doctor or at least a psychiatrist. She tells Chloe about being presumably attacked, healing overnight, and all the freaky shit that happened after. Chloe interrupts a few times, mostly with questions that remind Kate of a child asking about Santa Clause (“Prescott sounds like an ass, did you punch him at least?” “No. I mean, I hit him with the dodge ball, isn’t that enough?” “Ugh, lame.”)

Chloe actually seems to believe Kate, which is a good thing. “I’d say the healing thing was a little far-fetched but you had a cut on your face like ten minutes ago that isn’t there anymore so.”

Kate feels her lip and indeed, the cut is nowhere to be found. As nice as this is for Kate to get off her chest, she still doesn’t know why any of this is happening.

Then Chloe says, “Hey maybe you’re a werewolf,” and _that’s_ different.

Kate does her best to look like she thinks Chloe is insane (it’s not hard). “Hey just trying to make a suggestion. Think about it, you’re attacked by some animal, you get bit, and the next morning, it’s totally healed and you don’t remember how it happened?”

“You’ve been watching too many movies,” Kate says because what else can she say?

Chloe continues as if she didn’t even hear. “And now you’ve got all these superpowers.”

“I wouldn’t really call them superpowers.”

Chloe scoffs. “You know, you’re being very negative about this whole thing.”

“Did you miss the part where I almost ripped a guy’s head off?”

“Maybe he deserved it.”

Kate gapes at her.

“Okay, fine, so feeling murderous sometimes, hella not cool. But, _but_ , super hearing and smelling and healing? Yeah, that’s awesome.”

Kate falls back on the bed. Chloe hasn’t had to live through nearly throwing up in the hallway because some asshole decided mint would make a good body wash. “Okay, whatever, but really a werewolf?”

“I was getting to that.” Chloe’s pacing now. “I mean, other than the animal attack, waking up in the woods thing? You did kind of grow claws in my car like two hours ago.”

Kate sits bolt upright. “It’s been that long?”

“It’s like four o’clock, quit interrupting me.”

Kate snaps her mouth shut mostly for dramatic effect.

“Like I was saying, the claws, the fangs-“

“Fangs?” Kate runs her tongue along her teeth. They’re normal.

Chloe throws the nearest pillow at Kate. She catches it. “And the reflexes see? Totally screams werewolf.”

“Except that werewolves aren’t real.” Kate sets the pillow aside. This conversation has only gone from weird to weirder. Kate’s had enough weird to last a lifetime.

“Well, no one thought gravity was a thing either until an apple fell on some guy’s head.”

“Gravity is a physical force, a werewolf is a _thing_. It’s hardly a fair comparison.”

“A physical force is a thing.”

Kate gives her a look.

“Okay, fine, so not the same type of thing, but you know what I mean. People have been wrong about things before. How do we know we’re not wrong about this? Explain why every culture has some kind of werewolf myth, hmm?”

“Because a man becoming a beast is a universal fear? Besides, cultures borrow from each other all the time. It still doesn’t explain why no one’s ever captured or studied one.”

Chloe huffs, throwing herself back onto the bed. “Okay fine, maybe not a werewolf, but still, you have superpowers. You’re going to need to learn how to use them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you don’t have claws or fangs all the time right?”

Kate nods, feeling her teeth again. They’re normal. They’re _human_ , she repeats to herself.

“So maybe you can turn the senses on and off, too.”

That would be nice actually. Kate _would_ like to be able to shower in her own dorm or walk into the hallway without catching six different conversations at once. “How am I supposed to do that, though?”

“Easy.” Chloe stands in front of her, arms out stretched. “I’m going to help you.”

“You want to help me?” Kate… honestly feels kind of flattered. It’s nice to be believed for one thing. It makes her feel like she’s not alone in this. Still, “You hardly know me. And this could be dangerous.”

Chloe shrugs. “It’s going to be dangerous anyway so unless you plan to live in a cave for the rest of your life, you need to learn how to control this, whatever it is.” She waves her hand at Kate as if that’s all there is to it.

“We still don’t know each other. We met less than twelve hours ago.”

“Okay, fine, what do you want to know?”

“Chloe.”

Chloe sighs. There’s been a lot of sighing going on, Kate notices. “Okay, okay, truth? You remind me of an old friend. And friends are in short supply for me lately.”

Kate frowns. She’s never actually been lonely like that. She’s always had her family, her sisters, her church. She thinks back to when she first started at Blackwell. She cried the first night; she missed her family so much. She doesn’t think it’s a fair comparison.

Then Kate thinks to the first time she woke up, covered in blood. She really doesn’t want to be alone in this.

So she nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Chloe repeats like she can’t believe the word.

Kate smiles tentatively but something tells her this is a good idea. “Okay. You’re right, I need to figure this out and I really don’t want to do it alone.”

Chloe smiles brighter than the sun and wow, that’s a nice sight. “Okay.”

Kate’s starting to think it will be.

* * *

They argue about Kate’s ‘condition’ as she’s taken to calling it for far too long on the drive back to Blackwell. It’s a conversation mostly consisting of Chloe pointing to something vaguely animalistic (“You growled at me when I tried taking you to the hospital! See? Werewolf.”)and Kate countering with variations of “Werewolves aren’t real, Chloe.”

It’s getting harder to deny.

Somewhere in between Chloe asking what she had for dinner last night (“I don’t know, it just smells like cigarettes.” “You’re not even trying.” “Fine, fine… pancakes?” “Waffles but close. See? Werewolf.”“Chloe!”)and Kate insisting she’s _human_ , they pull to a stop in the Blackwell parking lot. It still smells faintly of blood, but the body and the police are gone. All that remains is a dark red blemish on the pavement, hopefully to be washed away soon.

Kate stares at the spot long enough for Chloe to notice. “Hey,” Chloe says. Kate turns to her. “You know, when I was here before? I heard the police talking.” She hesitates.

Kate frowns, waiting for Chloe to continue. She doesn’t.

“About what?” Kate finally asks.

Chloe bite her lip and speaks softly, as if she doesn’t really want Kate to hear. “They think it was an animal attack that killed her.”

Kate blinks. ‘That’s awful’ sits on the tip of her tongue because it is awful. It’s horrible and scary and to have happened the day after Kate woke up covered in blood? They both know it’s not a coincidence. That scares Kate even more. _What if it wasn’t just my blood this morning?_ Kate thinks she may vomit.

Kate jolts at the hand suddenly squeezing her arm. It takes her a moment to remember where she is.

“You back with us? You look freaked,” Chloe says.

‘Of course I’m freaked,’ Kate wants to say. ‘I might have fucking killed someone last night!’ _Might_ , her mind supplies.So, instead she shakes her head. “I’m okay, just,” she says. “Just been a weird few days.”

Chloe nods, looking less than convinced. “Look, all I’m saying is if some animal did kill this woman, it’s probably the same thing that attacked you.” _Or it could have been you_. Chloe doesn’t say that. Kate still thinks it’s a possibility.

They don’t say anymore on the subject of dead bodies for which Kate is infinitely grateful. Chloe reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a pen. “So since you don’t have your phone on you, we have to do this the old fashioned way.” She uncaps the pen with her teeth (that can’t be good for them) and writes her phone number on the back of Kate’s hand. “Text me, okay?” she says around the pen cap. It’s kind of cute. “And please no emoji. I fucking hate that shit.”

Kate nods, taking special note to ignore that last part. She wants to say something more heartfelt than ‘k thanks’ but she’s not quite sure what. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” Chloe says with a cheeky smile. Kate gives her an unimpressed look. “Hey just teasing. Shoot.”

“You said I reminded you of an old friend. Who?”

Chloe’s smile saddens and for a moment, she looks very far away. “Just someone I used to be friends with when we were kids. You wouldn’t know her. She moved away to Seattle five years ago and I haven’t heard from her since.  We were total besties though. Did everything together.”

“And she just left?”

“Without a word. Probably didn’t wanna deal with my shit after my dad died.” Chloe frowns. Resentment crosses her face but Kate’s not sure who it’s for. Kate thinks about what it would be like if her own father died. She’s not sure she could bear it. “But it’s whatever, right? It was a long time ago. And besides, now I’ve got you.”

Chloe smiles so Kate smiles back. “I don’t know, you sure you want to be friends with a werewolf?”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “I thought werewolves didn’t exist.”

“It’s on the list of possibilities.”

“Mm hmm and how long is that list exactly?”

“Only one entry so far.”

“Sounds promising.”

Kate snorts, realizing she should probably get out of the car. She needs sleep and a change of clothes and to think. All she’s been doing lately is thinking. She’s getting kind of sick of it.

“Hey, do you want to come see my bunny?” she asks. Screw sleep and screw thinking. The last time she did that, she wound up naked in the forest.

But she also met Chloe.

“Bunny? Is that a euphemism?”

“It’s my pet rabbit, you dork. But hey, if you don’t want to see her, your loss.”Kate steps out of the car, closing the door with dramatic slowness.

She hears Chloe scoff and scramble out of the vehicle. “Who you callin’ a dork, nerd?”

“Well, I don’t see anyone else around. Do you, dork? Why? Wha’cha gonna do about it?”

Chloe lunges at her from the other side of the car just like Kate was hoping. She takes off in a sprint to her dorm, laughing over the chanting of “Get back here, nerd!”

The afternoon sun is low. Kate feels it spread through her body like hot chocolate on a cold day, sweet and warm. Her heart beats, quick in her chest. She knows in the back of her mind there’s a massive shit storm coming. But for now, the clouds don’t seem so dark.

* * *

 

Kate runs the entire way back to her room and manages to avoid running into anyone. 

She stops just outside her door, panting and sweaty. Her hair sticks to her face. She’s never felt more alive.

She can hear Chloe’s footsteps pounding on the stairs if she listens. Maybe Kate should go back for her. She can already hear Chloe lamenting about ‘werewolf speed’ and how Kate cheated. She promises to buy Chloe food the next time they see each other.

Next time. Kate really hopes there’s a next time. She doesn’t really want the first time to end as it is. It’s strange. Kate’s had friends before – family friends, school friends, church friends, best friends even. She has friends here, friends who aren’t Chloe. But she can’t think of a time it’s ever just clicked, not like this. They’ve known each other less than a day and Kate’s already thinking about next time. _You really are a nerd, Kate Marsh_.

“Kate?” She smells vanilla before she even hears her name. Suddenly, there are arms around her neck and a weight on her chest. Max holds her tight, as if Kate will disappear as soon as she lets go. Even when they pull apart, Max keeps her hands on Kate’s shoulders. “Where have you been? You wouldn’t answer your phone and you weren’t in your room and you look really, really different.”

Kate look down at her ripped jeans and low cut t-shirt borrowed from Chloe (who’s panting somewhere on the staircase. If Kate listens hard enough, she can hear her mumbling about being out of shape.) She run a hand through her hair and resists the urge to pull her shirt up. “These um, these aren’t my clothes.”

“I can tell. Not that they don’t look nice,” Max amends. “I just um, they don’t seem like your style I mean.”

Kate hopes Max doesn’t notice her blushing. She looks nice in these? That’s kind of nice to hear.

Max shakes her head. “Where have you been, Kate? I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I haven’t had my phone with me all day. It was kind of a crazy morning.”

“Kate, you’ve been acting weird the past two days. Are you all right?”

Damn that concerned voice. Kate can’t bring herself to lie to Max on a normal day. She nods. “Max, something really bizarre is happening to me and I can’t explain it.”

“Talk to me, Kate. I can help you.”

Chloe chooses that exact moment to come barreling down the hallway, nearly running into Kate. She seems to have a knack for that.

Everything happens all at once after that. Max’s face goes from concerned to confused, Chloe looks outright shocked, and Kate definitely hears another set of footsteps marching up the stairs.

“Max?” Chloe recovers first.

“Chloe?”

“You two know each other?” they say at the same time.

“Uh.” Kate doesn’t really have time to say much else.

“Chloe, what are you doing here?”

“Gee, good to see you, too, Max. Thanks for telling me you were back in town by the way.”

“I’m sorry; I’ve just been busy settling in.”

“For two weeks? I don’t get so much as a post card from you for five years and you can’t send a text in two weeks?”

“I didn’t even know you had the same phone number.”

“So, what? You don’t even try? You dropped off the face of the planet right after my dad died. Do you know how that made me feel?”

“It’s not like I wanted to move. My dad got a new job and I was thirteen. What was I supposed to do? Live by myself?”

“Uh, guys?” Kate tries to cut in because the footsteps are getting louder and angrier and really, Kate’s not a fighter. They don’t seem to hear her.

“You could have written me a fucking letter. I was fourteen, too, remember? And my best friend just abandoned me.”

“I didn’t abandon you, Chloe. Life just got in the way.”

“That is such bullshit and you know it.”

Kate’s heard enough, particularly the angry mutters of ‘that little shit’ coming closer to the hallway. In one motion, Kate wretches her door open, shoves the bickering girls inside, and follows after them. She slams and locks the door a half second before the footsteps reach the hall. Chloe and Max look ready to go at it again so Kate slaps her hands over their mouths and hisses at them to “shut up”.

Soon enough, the footsteps retreat. Kate sags against the door with relief. “Okay, so, guess we can skip the introductions. You two about done or should I find some boxing gloves?”

“Do you box? That is so badass,” Chloe say.

Max laughs. Chloe grab the nearest pillow and swings it at her face. Just like that, the tension is gone. Kate wonders if this is what it’s like being best friends.

The three settle into the room. Max takes the desk chair while Chloe sits on the bed with Alice curled up in her lap. “Hey, I came to see the bunny; I’m seeing the damn bunny.” This leaves Kate to the couch, which is just as well considering this feels like a therapy session anyway.

“So,” Max says after a long silence. “Start from the beginning.”

Kate does. Max is a much less interruptive listener than Chloe, only stopping Kate once when she mentions how they met. (“You ran her over?” “I barely tapped her! She was fine.”)

Max face reads like an open book, looping through thoughtful to sympathetic to outright shocked several times during the whole story. She’s quiet for a while after Kate finishes with an ever so eloquent “so here we are.” Kate’s sure there’s no way Max believes her especially when Chloe chimes in with “we’re thinking werewolf” and Kate can’t blame her. She’s still muddling through her own denial to be quite honest.

At least Chloe seems pretty on board.

“I think we should try to figure out what bit you in the first place,” Max says after what feels like a year. “We don’t even know if it really was a wolf that attacked you.”

“But you agree werewolf is the most likely possibility,” Chloe says.

“Werewolves still aren’t real, Chloe,” Kate says and are they really going to have this argument again?

Max tries to hide a laugh behind her hand. She fails. “I’m just saying. We don’t even know if there are wolves in the forest. She could be a werecougar for all we know.”

“Don’t be silly, Max, werecougars don’t exist.”

Kate and Max both give Chloe a look.

“Fine, whatever, but when we find out I’m right, I’ll be the one giving the looks.”

“Maybe we can ask Ms. Grant on Monday,” Kate says, ignoring Chloe’s pouts. “What am I supposed to do tonight, though? I really don’t feel like another midnight run through the woods.”

“Easy, Max and I will just have to spend the night here.”

“No way.” Kate jumps off the couch, startling the other two. “What if I really am a werewolf? I could be dangerous!” She thinks back to Warren and Nathan and Chloe in the car. “I’m already dangerous.”

“You’ll only be more dangerous without us to watch you.” Chloe sounds way too fucking calm about this.

“A woman just died and I might have killed her!” Because it’s true. Kate really might have killed someone and oh, God, she feels sick. That woman had a family and a life and now she’s gone. Kate doesn’t even know her fucking name!

“Kate, calm down,” Max says. When had she moved to the couch? Kate doesn’t remember sitting down again. “You didn’t kill anyone.”

“You don’t know that.” Kate’s voice is weak. When had she started crying? She breathes in vanilla like air and still feels like she’s drowning.

“Then we don’t want a repeat, do we?”

“Chloe!” Max hisses.

“What? Even if she did kill that woman-“

“She didn’t.” Max sounds so firm Kate almost believes her.

“I don’t think so either but if, _if_ she did, we need to make sure she doesn’t hurt someone else.” Chloe stands, Alice in hand, and sits on Kate’s other side. Where Max is warm and comforting, Chloe is solid and strong. Alice hops into Kate’s lap. She feels safe. “Our best chance is to stay here tonight. We can take shifts so one of us is always awake. If something happens, we’ll get out, okay?”

Kate shakes her head. There’s a hand on her back, rubbing small circles. She’d never forgive herself if she hurt one of these two girls. She can’t let them stay here. She can’t stay here.

“You can’t just run away,” Max says. Kate didn’t think she said that last part out loud. “Chloe’s right. You won’t hurt us or anyone else.”

“We’ll be right here with you,” Chloe says. “I said I’d help you so I’m going to. Besides, it’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

“That’s the part I’m afraid of.” Still, Kate feels her resolve weakening with their words. Maybe she knows she’s fighting a losing battle (why did she have to make friends with the two most stubborn people on the planet?) Maybe she’s just being selfish. She gives in regardless.

As the three settle in for the night, Kate wonders how she went from having a few notable acquaintances to having two people willing to put themselves in potentially life threatening danger for her.

She hopes they won’t regret this.

* * *

The wind howls in her ears. 

She can’t hear anything else. She runs too fast and the air is too thick. She knows they’re behind her but she can’t hear them – not the gun shots, not their footsteps. There’s only the wind and her own heartbeat.

Twigs snap beneath her aching feet. She’s bleeding, though she doesn’t know where from. Muscles strain, blood alive with adrenaline. She can smell the rotting, like burnt tires and rusted metal. Cigarette smoke and old beer and faintly, underneath it all, something sweet.

Home.

She runs faster. _Ignore the pain, you’re almost home_ , she tells herself. It’s her mantra, has been for a long time. _Run faster, keep going._

The forest is her domain. No matter how far they go, how fast they think they are, they’re in her territory now. They think they can outsmart her. They think if they’re quiet, she won’t know where they are. She knows their scent. She knows where they are.

They won’t catch her. She can’t let them.

Home is too close.

She clears the forest. She can’t stop, can’t pause for even a moment. She’s home, she’s _home_.

She runs, jumps, dodges every obstacle easily. She knows this place better than she knows herself – this place that smells of rusted metal and decaying trash and something so, so sweet. She follows that sweetness. She just needs to find her. Everything will be okay if she just finds her.

Just a moment, a fraction of a second, to look, to breathe, is all it takes. A shot rings out. The scent of blood fills the air, strong enough to overpower the sweetness. It hurts, it hurts _so much_. She goes down.

“You’re really getting to be more trouble than you’re worth.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kate wakes up early Sunday morning in her pajamas in her own bed. Already the day is off to a better start than she could have hoped for.

Her ‘night watch’, as they had taken to calling themselves somewhere around two in the morning, lay fast asleep. At least Max had the sense to fall asleep on the couch. Kate doubts Chloe will find the floor a comfortable in the morning. _Maybe next time they’ll listen when I tell them to take the bed_ , she thinks.

Next time, oh, dear.

She wants there to be a next time but not because lives might actually be in danger. She just wants to hang out with her friends like she was never allowed to when she was younger. Kate loves her mom with all her heart, but it’s hard sometimes, being her daughter.

Kate believes in God’s teachings. She believes in doing good works and being kind to those around you. She volunteers to bring food to underprivileged people. She believes in abstinence until marriage. She tells others because in high school, kids don’t always feel like that’s an option. She’s comfortable with herself and her relationship with God. She wants to be a good person but not because Hell scares her.

Her mother never quite understood. For her, fulfilling her duties as a wife and mother always meant having a tight grip on her family. It’s how she grew up and it’s how she wanted her own children to grow up. She never used a heavy hand per se, but the more Kate’s away from her mother, the less she understands her. Kate would never have been allowed to be friends with Chloe or Max when she was growing up. She hadn’t been allowed to stay over at her school friends’ houses. “They’re just not the right sort, Katie,” she’d say. “Why don’t you play with some of your church friends instead?” Her mother hadn’t thought her friends were good, Christian people. Kate knew that even then.

But Chloe is a good person. She smokes weed and has blue hair and a tattoo and she risked her life to help Kate last night. Max is a good person. Warren’s a good person.

Kate knows that being religious doesn’t make you a good person just like not being religious doesn’t make you a bad person. Kate knows it’s okay that not everyone believes the same things she does. She knows being friends with people like Chloe and Max doesn’t change her own relationship with God.

She just wishes knowing that didn’t take unlearning a lot of the things her mother taught her.

Sometimes Kate feels like she’s missed out on a lot. She thinks about the sleepovers she missed and friends she could have had. She thinks about the girl in the photos on the corkboard. She thinks about Chloe with blonde hair and a smile. Would her mother have been upset if they were friends back then?

Kate shakes the thoughts from her head. It doesn’t matter. Her mother isn’t here and Kate can be friends with whomever she chooses. She won’t even feel guilty.

Kate’s up early enough to grab a shower before anyone else. She really hopes Chloe’s right and she’ll be able to turn this smell thing on and off. As cool as it sounds, it’s actually really disorienting when you suddenly find peppermint body wash personally offensive. Kate reminds herself to go shopping soon. She’s going through her face soap at an alarming rate.

Kate glances over herself while drying off. Just as before, there’s no evidence regarding her midnight stroll. Even the deepest gash on her hip closed overnight. Not so much as a scar remains. She could almost pretend it never happened.

But no, that would be stupid. It happened. It’s still happening and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop happening any time soon. Kate closes her eyes. If she concentrates, she swears she can smell vanilla and cigarette smoke. It’s faint, faint enough for her to think she might be imagining it, but it’s comforting. Beneath the soap and musty scent that comes with living too close to too many people, it’s there, grounding her in a way she never thought she’d need so desperately.

Kate sighs. She doesn’t want to need them. Every rational part of her mind tells her they could get hurt or worse. It screams at her to push them away while every other instinct tells her keep them close, protect them. Underneath both parts of her, Kate’s just afraid to be alone.

Eventually, someone else walks into the shower room and Kate takes that as her cue to leave.

Max and Chloe are still asleep when she walks back into her bedroom. They look so peaceful; Kate doesn’t have the heart to wake them. She busies herself with her hair, telling herself that leaving a note would be rude and she’s not just trying to extend her time with them (she’s still not a good liar). Still, it does feel better to have her hair up and her cross around her neck. She’s starting to feel like herself again.

A pained groan pulls her from her musings. She tries not to laugh as Chloe sits up, slow and stiff. She must not do a very good job because Chloe glares at her from the floor. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You know I could sue you for this.”

Kate rolls her eyes in good humor. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Chloe shrugs and gets to her feet. Before she even puts her pants on, she’s saying good morning to Alice. The bunny eagerly scampers into her arms. Kate smiles. Who’d have thought Chloe would be so good with small animals?

The pair takes a seat on the bed, stretching lazily. “Lookin’ good. You need a ride to your puritan meeting?” Chloe asks not unkindly.

“It’s just church, Chloe,” Kate says. “And I can take the bus. Wouldn’t want you to risk getting struck by lightning.”

“That’ll only happen if I go inside. Besides, Max and I are going out for breakfast whenever she wakes her ass up.”

“You two aren’t going to go all death match as soon as I get out of the car, are you?”

“We promised to behave last night, didn’t we?”

Kate moves to sit beside her. Chloe hardly notices Alice leaving her lap in favor of Kate’s. She’s too busy looking longingly at Max, still asleep on the couch.

“That’s good,” Kate says if only to break the silence.

Chloe nods. “Gives us the chance to catch up. I can’t believe after five years, she just shows up. It’s unreal, like fate or something.”

“Technically, you were the one who just showed up.”

Chloe bumps Kate’s shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Kate actually doesn’t. She’s never been good enough friends with someone. She thinks it must have hurt when Max left, like losing a family member. Maybe more like losing a part of yourself. Kate wants to have a friendship like that.

They lapse into a comfortable silence. Kate glances at Chloe every now and then. Her eyes are the same blue as her hair, Kate notices absently. She follows those eyes to Max.

Kate’s never been great at reading people. She’s never understood the subtle twitches of people’s faces or how eyes could be considered ‘windows to the soul’. Looking at Chloe, though, Kate understands. Chloe looks at Max like she’s seeing the sun after a cold winter’s night. Kate wonders if someone will ever look at her the way Chloe looks at Max. She thinks maybe she should feel jealous. Max and Chloe share something, something more than history, and Kate knows she can never really be a part of that. There are too many years between them – too many memories, too many laughs, too many shared secrets and sleepovers and things Kate will never know.

Then Chloe looks at Kate and her face changes. She raises an eyebrow in the way Kate never could. “What?” she asks with a laugh. Her smile never falters.

Kate shakes her head and turns her eyes back to Max. She can still feel Chloe’s eye on her. Chloe bumps her shoulder again and she bumps hers back.

Max stirs on the couch, blinking sleep from her eyes. Her hair is a mess and there are fabric marks on her face from the rough pillows on Kate’s couch. “What are you two looking at?” she asks through a yawn.

Chloe and Kate share a laugh and Max looks even more confused. That only makes them laugh harder.

Kate wonders if she can have a friendship like this – wonders how many moments can make up for the years she’s fallen behind. Looking between her two new friends, laughing together, laughing with them, she looks forward to many years’ worth of moments.

Kate can’t be a part of what Chloe and Max have, but maybe they can make something new that’s just as good.

* * *

A chorus of “amen” effectively ends the sermon and Kate never thought she’d be so grateful to leave church.

It’s warm for a September Sunday. Too warm and people are wearing way too many layers of clothing and perfume that smells like dead flowers. At first, Kate tries to sit at the front like usual. Then several older women, all wearing different yet equally offensive perfumes, sit to her left. Kate’s nose can only take so much abuse before she’s forced to vacate and choose a seat in the back row. Of course, then every scent floats around her in one horrible mass of sweat and decaying plant matter but at least the door is open.

Kate thinks she’ll just stay home next Sunday.

“’When you pray, go into your inner room, close your door and pray to your Father who is in secret’,” Kate reads from Matthew chapter six, verse six. “Works for me.” She stands with the rest of the congregation, ready to make a quick exit.

“Before we leave to spend this day of rest with our families,” the pastor says from the podium and Kate actually almost groans. Then she feels bad and sits back down. “I’m sure we’ve all heard of the recent tragedy regarding an animal attack here in our very town.”

Kate’s heart stops in her chest. For a moment, she can’t breathe. Oh, God. She grips her bible tighter if only to stop her hands from shaking.

“It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that our very own Esther White has indeed been lost. I’m sure this must be a very trying time for many of you. I knew Esther very well, myself, and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say she will be greatly missed. A collection has been taken up for her family and we ask that you keep them in your prayers. As always, our doors are always open.”

There’s shuffling and whispering as people leave the church. It’s all far too loud and Kate hears none of it. Her heartbeat restarts with a vengeance. Her chest aches so much it feels as though it might burst. Esther White had a family and a life. She went to church and people liked her and…

And Kate might have _killed_ her.

Oh, _God_.

Kate stands and bolts from her seat, bible forgotten in her haste. Some people shout, some mutter rude remarks to their neighbors, others only stumble when Kate all but plows through the crowd. She doesn’t hear them; she needs to leave. She needs to run, to get away. Her eyes burn.

She runs into something solid. Someone, rather. There are hands on her shoulders and a soft voice reaches her ears. “Whoa, Kate, you all right?”

Kate looks up into the bespectacled eyes of her photography teacher. “Mr. Jefferson?”

He smiles. “Good afternoon, Kate. I didn’t know you went to church here.”

“I-I,” Kate stutters. She shakes her head, trying to regain control of her heartbeat. “I don’t. I mean, I do, just…” She stops short to swallow. Her throat hurts. “I just started. It’s closer.”

Mr. Jefferson nods. Silence lapses.

“I didn’t know you went to church here,” Kate says. She didn’t know he went to church at all.

“Not as often as I should.” Mr. Jefferson runs a hand through his hair. “Are you okay, Kate? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine!” She says it too quickly and too loudly. She’s not fine. She’s nowhere near _fine_. “I’m fine, I just got upset, you know. About that woman.”

Mr. Jefferson nods. “Ester was a good woman.”

Kate bites her lip. “D-did you know her?”

“Not really.” Kate almost wants to sag with relief. She hates herself even more for feeling that way. “She was always smiling when I saw her, though.”

Kate takes a deep breath. She can’t do this right now. She needs to leave. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jefferson. I really need to get going.”

“Of course,” he says. Kate almost jumps when he pats her shoulder sympathetically. “You’ve got a good heart, Kate. See you in class.”

Kate nods and walks several steps away from the crowd forming outside the church. She walks until she can’t hear their voices, until she can’t smell their perfume, until she knows none of them are paying attention to a meek, doe eyed, teenaged girl.

Then, she runs.

* * *

 

Kate bursts through the doors of the Two Whales diner with enough force to knock the bell off of the doorframe, startling every single one of its occupants away from their food. Kate blinks at their staring faces and freezes, absolutely mortified. A waitress wearing a suspiciously familiar smirk and a nametag that reads ‘Joyce’ stops in front of her. “So, no coffee I take it?” And with that, the chatter returns and everyone goes back to eating their food and ignoring Kate.

She blushes but then again, it could just be the heat one naturally produces while running. “Sorry,” she says, picking up the bell.

Joyce pockets it with a nod over her shoulder. “No worries. I see you’ve got an important meeting to get to.”

Kate glances over at the booth hidden in the corner where Chloe is nearly standing on the seat trying to silently wave her over. She can hear Max giggling behind her hand. Kate smiles.

“Go on, now,” Joyce says and Kate doesn’t need to be told twice.

Kate collapses into the seat beside Max, nostrils immediately filling with bacon, eggs, and the sweetness of vanilla she’s come to associate with the girl beside her.

“Whoa, rocker chick already lettin’ loose after her puritan meeting?” Chloe says.

Kate shakes her head, long hair flying around her face. It sticks to the back of her neck. “It fell out,” she says and it’s not a lie.

Chloe nods, skeptically. “Sure it did.”

A camera shutter sounds to her right. Max hands her the picture, all smiles. “It’s nice. It suits you.”

Kate fingers her scalp self-consciously. She’s never particularly loved her hair. It’s too dark near the roots and never quite manages to curl. (Where she gets the curl, she’ll never know because her sisters certainly never have to deal with it.) It’s too thick to lie flat, leaving Kate with a fluffy mess that always looks like she’s just gotten out of bed. She’d taken to pulling it in a bun when she was thirteen and never looked back.

Now, it curls randomly around her face and falls in a tangled heap over her shoulders and the picture doesn’t look half bad.

Kate smiles a bit wider.

“Hmm, breakfast and a show. Or am I invited, too?” Chloe says and Kate groans feeling absolutely mortified for the second time in less than ten minutes. Max laughs and throws a balled up napkin at Chloe, who laughs, too. “But, hey, you could have called if you needed a ride. No need to take the bus; we weren’t doing shit else anyway.”

Kate shakes her head. Right. She’d forgotten. Being with these two, it made her forget. “I didn’t take the bus.”

Max frowns and arches a brow (and seriously, how come everyone can do that except Kate?).

“What do you mean you didn’t take the bus? The church is like ten miles away,” Chloe says, equally puzzled.

“Kate, did you walk all the way here?” Ma asks.

Kate bites her lip, suddenly glad she has hair to hide behind. “Ran actually.” They’re quiet for a little bit so she goes on. “I just, at church, they talked about that woman. Esther White, the one who died?”

“Oh, Kate,” Max says in her sympathetic voice that makes Kate feel like everything’s okay.

“Kate, you didn’t kill her.” Chloe reaches across the table to lay a hand on her arm.

“She’s still dead, Chloe.” And Kate can’t believe she’d forgotten. A woman – no Esther – died barely a day ago and Kate might have killed her and she’d _forgotten_. “She went to that church; they took up a collection for her family. I didn’t even donate. I just ran away.”

Joyce chooses that moment to walk over with a place of fresh bacon and French toast, which is just as well because Max looks like she’s about to say something comforting and Kate really doesn’t want to hear it. “On the house,” Joyce says with a wink and Kate wants to vomit. Then she feels guilty for wanting to vomit because this is really nice of her to do. Kate manages a sincere thank you but she knows her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Joyce, thankfully, doesn’t comment.

Kate stares at the plate for a long time. Max’s hand is on her back, like a comfortable weight. Kate spends a moment breathing in vanilla and listening to the quiet tune playing on the jukebox. No one speaks, all seeming lost in thought.

Kate’s mind wanders to when she was ten and her paternal grandmother died. Kate had been old enough to understand what death meant. It meant no more sleepovers at Nana’s, no more homemade fudge or bible readings in the garden or lavender perfume. She held her father’s hand and squeezed it when he cried. When a five-year old Lynn asked where Nana was going, her mother cried as she explained that Nana was going to heaven to be with Grandpa. Lynn didn’t understand so she hadn’t cried.

Kate understood. She hadn’t cried.

Kate knows what death means. It means a person is gone forever. They won’t be able to hold you when you’re scared or make you laugh when you’re sad. Kate doesn’t know if Esther had any children or how old they are or if they’ll even miss her.

Kate hadn’t cried when her own grandmother died but here, thinking about Esther makes her want to.

Max is still looking at her, like she doesn’t know what to say. Kate’s not sure there’s anything to say. ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted,’ is what the pastor had said at her Nana’s funeral. Kate doesn’t think she deserves to be comforted right now.

Suddenly, Chloe slams her fist on the table so hard Kate and Max both almost fall out of their seat. “No more running away,” she says and _what?_

“You break it, I’m not paying for it!” Joyce shouts from behind the counter.

“You’re cheapass table’s fine, Mom!” And huh, now Kate knows why Joyce’s smirk seemed familiar.

“You sure know how to break the tension, Chloe,” Max says, rubbing her elbow.

Chloe doesn’t seem to hear her. “Last night, Max was right. You can’t run away from this.”

Kate knows it’s silly and petulant but part of her wants to ask “why not?” She resists the urge.

“Kate, you have to trust me when I say I know you didn’t hurt that woman.”

“Chloe,” Kate starts. “I appreciate the effort but I don’t think a pep talk will-“

“Do I look like the kind of person who gives pep talks?”

“Chloe, what are you saying?” Max asks and Kate thinks this is a very good question.

“I’m saying I know Kate didn’t kill that woman-“

“Esther,” Kate supplies.

Chloe bites her lip and nods. “Esther. Right. I know you didn’t hurt Esther but we might be able to find out who did.”

“Chloe, it was an animal attack. If it wasn’t me, then we can’t exactly bring her killer to justice.”

“Chloe, what aren’t you telling us?” Max cuts in.

“I’m telling you it wasn’t an animal attack, not really. Someone killed Esther and we can find out who.” She stands without waiting for them to reply. “Not here,” she says, preemptively silencing their questions. She glances pointedly at the police officer. Kate doesn’t understand; he just looks like he’s eating his lunch. “I’ll tell you on the way.” She walks away and right out of the diner.

Max and Kate rush out of their seat and chase after her, Max throwing a “Bye, Joyce!” over her shoulder.

The plate of bacon and French toast sits in the empty booth, forgotten and untouched. When Joyce clears the table, she notices four deep gashes marring the surface.

“Shit.”

* * *

“Her name’s Rachel Amber,” Chloe says, passing the poster to Max who holds it between herself and Kate.

All three sit side by side, Chloe driving them who knows where about fifteen miles over the speed limit. She’s frowning in concentration, brow furrowed, and Kate thinks it best not to ask.

Instead, she concentrates on the poster, not that she really needs to – it’s the same one that’s been plastered all over Blackwell for as long as Kate’s been there. Rachel’s a very pretty girl; Kate always thinks so when she looks at the posters. She looks like a model, with blonde hair and hazel eyes and a smile that says she knows more than you.

“She went missing five months ago,” Chloe continues. “Three days before the full moon in April, she just vanished without a word.”

Something in that sentence strikes Kate. “What does the full moon have to do with anything?”

“She’s a werewolf.”

Chloe says it so matter-of-factly, like someone would say that the sky is blue. Kate’s eyes widen. But there’s no way. That’s insane.

“Chloe, that’s insane,” Max says and Kate knew there was a reason she loved Max.

“Say what you want, I saw her change.”

“So you knew?” Kate asks. “The whole time when I was telling you what happened to me, you knew?” Kate’s not even sure how she feels about that. She wants to be upset because Chloe knows how freaked out she’d been, but she’s not.

“To be fair, I told you, you were a werewolf.”

“Chloe.”

Chloe sighs, frown deepening. “You wouldn’t have believed me anyway. I didn’t want to freak you out when I needed you to help me find Rachel.”

Kate bites her lip. That kind of hurts. Had Chloe only wanted to be her friend to find Rachel? Kate wants to say that she could have just asked. Kate’s not heartless; she knows she’ll help find Rachel even if Chloe never wants to see her again after. But still, her chest aches at the thought.

“Start from the beginning,” she says because she really doesn’t want to think about that right now. There are too many questions, so many things Kate doesn’t understand. Chloe gnaws on her lip and Kate gets the feeling she doesn’t want to tell the whole story. “Chloe, please.”

Chloe sighs heavily and nods. “Rachel and I were close.” She stumbles a little over the word, like she’s not sure it’s the right one. “It was hard for me after you left.” She looks at Max but it’s a sad look, not an angry one. Max looks away anyway. “Rachel was my angel.”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

_ Now is really not the time to think about that, _ Kate reminds herself. Still, to lose someone you were close to like _that_. Kate reaches over and puts a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. It’s kind of awkward with Max in between them but no one seems to mind. Max lays a hand on Chloe’s knee and Chloe smiles a little.

“Back in January,” Chloe continues. “One night, she suddenly fell through my window covered in blood. She fainted and I freaked. The next morning, she didn’t remember anything.”

Kate knows the feeling.

“The next night, we stayed in the junkyard. It was our secret place. Nearly froze our asses off.” Chloe pauses, probably to regain her composure. “That night, she turned into a wolf. Just right in front of my eyes, she screamed and then she howled and then there was a giant fucking wolf just standing there staring at me. I thought she was going to attack me for a second but she just ran off.”

Kate blinks then blink again. She replays the Chloe’s words in her head over and over until she has them memorized because _holy fucking shit_. So then Friday night, Kate had… Had she…

“I turned into a wolf?”

Max looks at her wide eyed as if she’d forgotten Kate was there. Chloe just nods. “I’d bet, yeah.” She waits for a moment but no one else says anything. How the fuck is Kate supposed to react to _that_?

“Rachel didn’t remember that morning either. I had to tell her she turned into a fucking wolf.” Chloe snorts. “That was a fun conversation. Anyway, she said weird things started to happen after that. Heightened senses, healing powers, all that superhero shit.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Kate says because at least she knows that much for certain.

“Rachel said the same thing. See, that’s your problem – neither one of you saw the potential. Do you know how many people would kill for super senses and healing powers?”

“The healing is nice, don’t get me wrong, but do you know how awful it is trying to take a shower when five other girls all decide to use different scented body washes? I almost threw up in church today because decaying roses is apparently a really popular perfume.”

“Okay, true, but what about being able to literally sniff things out? Like say you lose your favorite scarf? You could just track the scent and have it back in no time. And you could totally eavesdrop on anyone you wanted and don’t even tell me faster reflexes isn’t hella cool.”

“Yeah and it all comes with the urge to kill sometimes.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Max interrupts. “So did Rachel ever learn how to control it?”

Chloe nods. “Beats me how; she wanted to keep me as far away from the whole thing as possible.”

“Smart girl,” Kate chimes in.

Chloe shoots her a glare. “No, no way. Rachel wouldn’t let me help her even though she needed it and look what happened. I already lost one friend, there’s no way I’m letting you leave me out of this.”

Kate bites her lip. She shouldn’t let Chloe or Max be a part of this, not if it’s really this dangerous, but Chloe’s also right. Kate can’t do this alone.

And Chloe called Kate her friend and that’s just hitting below the belt right there.

“Hey, don’t think you can leave me out either,” Max says, honest to God pouting and the last of Kate’s resolve dies.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kate says. Chloe and Max smile at her.

God, they’re going to regret this so much.

* * *

The scent of stale beer and rusted metal hits Kate nearly a full minute before they pull into the junkyard and all she can think is, _At least it’s not cigarette smoke._

Of course, the junkyard does smell faintly like cigarettes but it’s properly buried under a thousand other scents, none of which are particularly pleasant or awful. Kate will take what she can get in this case. At least they’re outside.

“Oh don’t make that face,” Chloe say as she steps out of the truck. “It’s actually very nice so long as you don’t step on any rusty nails or fuck with the raccoon family by the tire pile.”

Kate and Max exchange an eye roll. Kate knows from the smell there’s no raccoon family anywhere near here.

But just in case, she thinks she’ll avoid the tire pile.

“Rachel didn’t tell me much,” Chloe says. “She never found out who bit her or if they even really meant to. But I think that she had someone teaching her how to control this, probably another werewolf.”

“Why do you say that?” Kate asks.

“Rachel had no idea what she was doing. For a month after she got bit, she couldn’t control it. Then I hardly see her for like a week in March, and when she comes back, she can suddenly bring out the claw on command? There’s no way she didn’t have someone teaching her.”

A month? She didn’t get a handle on this thing for a _month_? Kate’s barely lasted three days and she’s already almost hurt three people and maybe actually killed another. How had Rachel gone a _month_ like this?

“So you think the person who bit her also taught her?” Max voices.

“Seems likely. I mean, how many werewolves can there possibly be in Arcadia Bay?”

“At least two,” Kate says. “Do you think the person who bit me is the same person who bit Rachel?”

“You’d think they would have contacted you by now.”

“Maybe Rachel found them instead. Or maybe they just got scared after Rachel disappeared and didn’t even mean to bite me.”

Chloe shrugs. “Well, we’ll have to find them and ask, won’t we?”

“What I don’t get is how can a person be missing for five months and no one finds anything?” Max says.

“They think she left. Checked her room, saw her clothes missing and assumed she ran away.”

“We don’t know for sure that she didn’t.”

“She wouldn’t have left without saying anything. She’s not,” Chloe cuts herself off. ‘She’s not like you’ hangs in the air, unspoken yet still heard. Max looks at the ground so Chloe does, too. Silent ‘I’m sorry’s seem to pass between them and Kate can only watch from the outside. The distance between them spans more than five years and hurt feelings. Kate wonders if they’ll ever really close it.

“Anyway,” Chloe begins again. “As far as I know, no one’s heard from her since she went missing in April. Not me, not her parents, no one. She wouldn’t just disappear like that, even if the police think she would.”

Max nods. “Okay, so how exactly is Kate going to find her? What, you’ve got Rachel’s shirt and Kate’s going to sniff her out?” Max means it as a joke.

Chloe doesn’t seem to find it funny. “It’s not a shirt; it’s a bracelet.”

“You can’t be serious.” Max frowns. “She’s been missing for five months. Even if there is still a scent here, you can’t really expect Kate to find it.”

“O, ye of little faith. You don’t know what werewolves are capable of.”

“And you do?”

“More than you would anyway.” Chloe crosses her arms, blushing faintly. Kate tries and fails not to smile. Chloe really is a dork.

“Oh shut up.” Kate barely catches the bracelet Chloe throws at her. “If you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

Kate stares at the piece of jewelry for a long time. She does not, in fact, have any better ideas, but how is she supposed to do this? She remembers being in the forest and getting lost trying to follow the scent of gasoline to the parking lot. She couldn’t hold onto the scent for more than a few moments at a time and every time she lost it, she went in circles trying to find it again. People drove in the parking lot every day; Rachel’s been missing for five months.

Kate looks at Chloe. She’s shifting her weight from one foot to the other and biting her lip and looking back at Kate expectantly. And Kate’s about to fail her, oh, God. _Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?_ Kate lifts the bracelet to her nose and inhales.

The strongest scent is weed and really, Kate should have seen that coming. She really needs to talk to Chloe about her drug habit. She smells the bracelet again. There’s something else underneath the smell of weed and cigarette smoke that Kate can’t really identify. It’s not sweet like a perfume or pungent like sweat. It’s not even a smell, really, more like a feeling. It makes Kate feel at ease as if the smell were attached to something forgotten. Kate lifts her nose, searching for the feeling beneath rusted metal and burnt trash and…

There.

Kate chases it, barely hearing the shouts behind her. She runs and jumps and dodges old cars and wood planks. This scent, this _feeling_ , is so close, as if Rachel were standing right in front of her.

Kate doesn’t have to run very far. The scent ends in front of an old, worn out shack. Kate stops dead in her tracks, gut twisting. The feeling of ease disappears along with the color in her face. Something vaguely metallic fills her nostrils. Pounding footsteps come to a slow end behind her. She pays them no mind.

“How about a little warning next time?” Chloe wheezes somewhere in the background. “Or, like, carry me.”

Kate opens her mouth but the words catch in her throat. She feels sick to her stomach. “Chloe,” she chokes out.

“What? What did you find?”

“Kate?” Max is using her concerned voice. Kate must look as bad as she feels. “Kate, what’s wrong?”

“What is it? What did you find?” Chloe rushes around Kate’s unmoving frame, panicked. “What is it? Did you find something? Kate, tell me what you found.”

“Kate?”

Then Chloe gasps like she’s been punched in the gut. “It can’t be. It’s not.”

“Oh no,” Max whispers to Kate’s left.

In the dirt, deep red and only hours old, there’s blood.

Rachel’s blood.

* * *

Smoke still drifts from a poorly extinguished cigarette but he’s already lighting another. It’s his fifth today. He doesn’t usually smoke.

The nicotine coursing through his shot nerves only makes his anxiety worsen. He’s waiting, either for good news or for someone to rip him a new asshole. He shudders – they could do a lot worse to him.

He answers the phone on the first ring without checking the caller ID. He knows who it is. “So?”

“Hello to you, too.”

Smarmy bastard. “Not now.”

The voice on the other end laughs. “Calm down, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Then tell me what you found.”

“She was a fifty-something drunk who’s family cut ties with her ten years ago. No one will look into it because no one will care that she’s gone.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. But don’t think you can make another mistake like this. We won’t be so lucky again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He hangs up, not caring if that bastard thinks he’s rude. Snarky twat can say whatever the fuck he wants; they both know murder isn’t an option. They need each other too much.

He stubs out his cigarette, ignoring the buzzing phone.

If either one of them could, he thinks, they’d both kill the other in a red hot second.

Distantly, he hears her screaming. She’ll stop soon; she always does.


	4. Chapter 4

Moonlight streams through the window, reflecting eerily off of the bedside mirror. A warm breeze flutters the sheer curtains. Little half formed shadows dance on the walls. In her cage, Alice sleeps fitfully, never making a sound.

Lucky her.

It’s past midnight and Kate can’t sleep.

She’s been laying here since before the sun set (she never did bother checking the time on her phone), unable to sleep yet unwilling to do anything else. So, she lays here in contemplative solitude just like she wanted for this weekend.

Strange how much she hates it.

It’s quiet; has been for a while. Sometimes, Kate tries to listen to the nine other girls sleeping around her. Someone taps away on a keyboard (probably Brooke), someone’s talking on their phone (Juliet, Kate thinks), almost all of them shift in their sleep at one point or another. Except for one.

Kate listens to Max the most. It’s probably creepy, but Kate tells herself it hardly matters – Max doesn’t make any noise anyway.

Max hasn’t made any noise since Chloe dropped them back at school. No one spoke in the car, no one spoke after Kate and Max got out of the car, no one spoke on the way up the stairs or outside their rooms. Even when they looked at each other, mouths open, they’re voices stuck. Words hung between them, unsaid and unknown. They both went into their rooms and closed the doors behind them.

Now the only thing that hangs in the air is more silence.

Max tried playing her guitar, at first. She got out a few rough cords then stopped. At the time, Kate had been grateful to hear its end. Now she wants it back.

_You make it sound like you broke up with someone_ , Kate thinks. She supposes it’s accurate enough – it really feels like she lost something today.

Kate closes her eyes. She can smell vanilla through the doors separating her and Max. It’s sweet and comfortable and everything Kate feels like she doesn’t deserve right now. She wonders if Max is burning a candle (she doesn’t think Max would be able to sleep either) or if that’s just how she smells. It’s a silly thought; Kate knows people don’t smell like vanilla or peaches or anything like they do in the trashy romance novels her mother says she doesn’t read. Kate still kind of hopes that the vanilla sticks even if Max stops using scented candles.

Kate sits up. The shifting of her body on the new sheets is much too loud in the quiet of her room. She throws a pillow at the wall just to make a noise. It isn’t very satisfying.

Kate sighs, running a hand through her hair. She left it down when she got back to her room, though she isn’t sure whether it’s because she just hadn’t had the energy to pull it up or because Max said it suits her. She wonders whether Max will want the photo back.

She could go over there and give it back. It’s a weak excuse not to be alone right now but Kate’s having trouble caring.

Kate sits there for another few moments, listening – thinking. At some point, she thinks she hear Max mutter, “What a way to end a birthday weekend.” That just makes Kate feel even worse.

_Fuck it_ , she thinks. She stands, grabs the photo, and shuts the door on her way out.

* * *

She stands in front of Max’s door for probably several minutes, not wearing pants and poised to knock regardless. This is a lot more nerve wracking than Kate thinks it should be (maybe because of the pants situation). _Chill, Kate, it’s just Max_. Somehow this thought just makes her more nervous. _Kate Beverly Marsh, you stop this nonsense and knock on this door right now._

She does and then has to stop her fist inches from a very startled Max’s nose. “Sorry!” She shoves her offending hand behind her back. _At least this isn’t the weirdest thing you’ve done in front of her,_ her brain supplies and it’s not the most comforting thought. “Um, hi?”

Max smiles and lets Kate through the door. “Hi.”

Kate takes a seat on the couch without asking and isn’t worried for a moment that she’s being rude. Max’s room doesn’t smell like vanilla but it does smell like chocolate and old books and dirt and Kate loves it anyway. She grabs a throw pillow that doesn’t seem like it’s ever been used and gives it a squeeze. She wonders why she’d ever been nervous in the first place when this feels so much like coming home.

Max sits beside her instead of on the bed like Kate thinks she will. The lights are off leaving the glow of the moon as their only light. Kate might think it romantic if not for the heaviness hanging between them. They’re only a few feet apart yet it feels like Max is a continent away.

Max is the first to break the silence. She reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear. “You left it down.”

Kate smiles, relaxing easily after that. “Didn’t have the energy to pull it back up.”

Max nods. “I know how you feel.”

“I know,” Kate says before she can stop herself. “I heard you, I mean. Or didn’t hear you, really. You didn’t make any noise.”

Max arches a brow, smirking. She can’t pull it off as well as Chloe so it looks kind of funny on her face. “Listening to me, were you?” 

“To be fair, I was listening to everyone,” Kate crosses her legs. She hopes Max can’t see her underwear. “Juliet’s phone must be glued to her ear.”

Max snorts. “Hear anything good?”

“Maxine Caulfield, are you implying that I eavesdrop?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Tell me again, what do I sound like while I’m not sleeping?”

Kate rolls her eyes and hits Max with the pillow. Max laughs. It was a good idea to come over here.

Max sighs, relaxing back on the couch with the pillow. “So, you couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Kate shakes her head, frowning. “No, I just keep thinking about it, you know?”

Max looks away. It’s quiet for a moment, neither one of them willing to breach it.

Finally, Max says, “We don’t know that she’s dead, Kate.”

“We don’t know that she’s alive either.” And Kate doesn’t want to say it but someone has to. What if she is dead? Do they even want to find her then? Kate thinks about Chloe and the look of utter devastation on her face. Kate can’t handle seeing that again.

“I know,” Max says. “But it doesn’t make any sense. You said the blood was fresh. Why would someone hold her for five months only to kill her the night after the full moon?”

Kate can’t answer that. She doesn’t understand how anyone could kill another person, much less a young woman who hadn’t done anything wrong. Kate’s always been taught that there are evil people in the world but she’s never met them. Everyone is a little human aren’t they?

Maybe they didn’t think Rachel was human enough. Selfishly, Kate wonders if anyone will think that about her.

“We’ll find her,” Max says so definitively Kate almost believes her. “And we’ll find who took her.” _Or who killed her_. Neither one of them says that, though.

Silence lapses again. Kate feels suddenly too exhausted to speak, not that she’d know what to say anyway. She turns the photograph over in her hands. Pathetic excuse or not, this is why she came here. “Um, I brought you something.”

Max blinks as Kate thrusts the photo into her hands. Her mouth opens and closes like an adorkable fish and Kate has to bite her lip to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Happy birthday,” she says. It feels appropriate.

And then Max bursts into laughter, Kate following soon behind. The tension disappears along with the last of Kate’s anxiety.

“You know I took this photo, right?” Max says.

“Well, I was pretty sure, me having been there and all, but it’s good to have confirmation.”

Max snorts and swings the pillow at her. Kate lets herself get hit, new giggles bubbling from her chest. “All things considered,” Max starts. “It was a pretty great birthday weekend.”

Kate falls asleep on Max’s couch some time around two in the morning. When she wakes up four hours later to vanilla and an alarm clock playing some soft Indie band she’s never heard of, she knows she’s home.

* * *

Kate gets a text from Chloe in the middle of her last class that reads, “Meet me in the parking lot after class?” She replies with an “Okay :)” and can almost hear Chloe groan from the classroom. When Max’s phone buzzes seconds later, Kate assumes she got the same text.

So it’s strange when Max waves her off after class. “Go ahead,” she says. “I’ll be out in a few.”

“You sure you don’t want me to wait?” because that’s the polite thing to do (and not at all because she wants to walk with Max she’ll have you know.)

Max shakes her head, smiling like she knows something Kate doesn’t. “The Chloe waits for no Max. Go on, I’ll catch up.”

Kate eyes her suspiciously for several moments but she only smiles innocently and waves goodbye. So Kate nods and heads to the parking lot alone.

She’s walking through the entrance gate, too lost in her own thoughts about why Chloe wants to talk to her alone (because despite her social ineptitude, Kate’s not actually stupid) when she runs into Nathan Prescott. Quite literally. Nathan falls to his back with a sharp “fuck!” Kate winces. Oh dear.

“Sorry,” Kate says because despite being a werewolf, she’s not an animal. She grabs his wrist and hauls him to his feet before he can even say “fuck off”. He stares at her for a while after that, scowling but otherwise composed. He doesn't speak or move or even twitch. Kate blinks. If she listens, she swears she can hear his heart racing in his chest.

Eventually, he says, "Watch where you're fucking going," and storms off. His voice doesn't falter but Kate smells the sharp tang of sweat as he walks by. That doesn't sit right with her.

"Hey, wait!" she calls before she can rethink this very bad idea.

"What?" It's more of a demand than a question - a very loud, very angry demand.

"I just," she pauses. She probably should have thought of what to say before stopping Nathan from mercifully leaving her the fuck alone. "I just wanted to apologize for Friday. It um, it wasn't cool, shoving you in the hallway like that. And in gym class, that was totally an illegal move so I'm um, I'm sorry."

Nathan's quiet for a while. He crosses his arms and fidgets like a normal person. His heartbeat normalizes again. _Good_ , Kate thinks. Even if he tells her to go fuck herself, at least he's not afraid of her.

Afraid of her.

Oh, God.

Finally, Nathan grunts out, "What the fuck ever," and continues his path towards the dormitories. Kate's not sure what she'd been expecting but yeah, that comes pretty close. Oh well, it's still probably the least hostile interaction they’ve ever had (though Kate’s not sure it means much considering they’ve only ever really had a handful of those in the first place.) She counts it as a win and walks away thinking maybe Nathan isn't a total prick - just ninety nine percent give or take.

"Hey!" Chloe calls, pulling her from her musings. Kate jogs over to her. "What's his deal?"

Kate shrugs. "I ran into him and knocked him over."

"Damn, Kate on the warpath? Sign me up."

Kate snorts. "I said I was sorry."

Chloe shakes her head in amusement. It only lasts a moment before she frowns. “He asked about Rachel.”

Now it’s Kate’s turn to frown. Why would Nathan Prescott want to know anything about Rachel? “Did you two know him?”

Chloe shakes her head. “Knew of him is more like it.” She hesitates for a second. “If Rachel knew him better than that, she didn’t tell me.”

_That’s weird_ , Kate thinks.

“Anyway,” Chloe’s voice drags her from her thoughts. “That’s not why I’m here. Well, it is, but I actually wanted to talk to you.”

Kate figured but she’s still surprised. Chloe’s looking at the ground, digging her toe into a cigarette butt she stubbed out at least a few minutes ago if the smell is anything to go by. “What’s up?”

Chloe hesitates. Kate waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Finally, Chloe opens her mouth.

And then she sighs and closes it. Kate has to stop herself from groaning in agony.

“I,” Chloe starts.

“Yes?”

Chloe stops.

Kate fingers her cross necklace. _This is hard for her_ , Kate tells herself. _Be patient_.

So she waits.

The silence continues.

_Oh for the love of…_ “Chloe!” Because there’s only so much Kate can take.

Chloe actually does groan in agony. “Fine! I’m just going to say it okay? So don’t interrupt me. Or laugh at me.”

Kate nods. “Promise.”

Chloe sighs again. “Look, I know it was shitty, not telling you about Rachel right away. And I know how it came off but I meant what I said. I want to help you, even if we…” she trails off. “Cause you’re my friend and all that other sappy shit. So yeah.”

It’s Kate’s turn to be silent. She’s not really sure what to say. To be honest, Kate hadn’t thought about it after yesterday. It had hurt, when she found out, but Kate couldn’t muster up the ability to be properly mad at Chloe. After all the other shit that happened yesterday, it just seemed kind of trivial.

Kate only realizes she’s crying when Chloe says, “Hey, don’t cry.” Kate hastily wipes her eyes. God, she hates crying; her face gets all splotchy and people look at her like they would a kicked puppy. Chloe actually looks like she kicked a puppy and Kate’s not sure whether to laugh or cry harder. “Oh fuck, please don’t cry. I’m saying I’m sorry for being an ass, please stop crying.”

At that, Kate does laugh. She throws her arms around Chloe before the girl has a panic induced heart attack. “You’re such a dork.”

Kate can practically hear Chloe roll her eyes but she hugs back anyway. “Who you callin’ a dork, nerd?”

A flash goes off somewhere beside them and Kate knows it’s Max before she can even smell her. “Dinner and a show? Or am I invited, too?”

Chloe keeps an arm around Kate’s shoulders even after they separate. “I think I’ll keep this one all to myself, actually. And who said anything about feeding you?”

Max pouts, though at which part Kate’s not sure. “Guess you don’t wanna see the picture I just took then.”

“No way, gimme that!” Chloe grabs for the picture but Max dives out of the way, circling the car, laughing the whole way.

“Say you’ll by us dinner!”

“Max, this is immature and manipulative. Now gimme the picture, you cheat!”

“Say you’ll buy us dinner!”

Kate laughs along with the two, watching from the sidelines. All she can think about in that moment is how much she wants these two dorks in her life forever. Kate’s still not sure about this whole werewolf thing but she wouldn’t give this up for the world. If getting to know these two means occasionally growing claws, fangs, and fur, then so be it.

 Max throws herself behind Kate, still holding the picture away from Chloe. “Kate, defend me!”

“No way! Katie’s on my side!” Katie? Only her dad calls her that anymore. “She hasn’t seen the picture either!”

“Kate, if you defend me, I’ll make you a copy and we get free food.”

Chloe gasps dramatically. “That’s low, Maxine.”

Kate hums as if considering the offer.

“Katie, no! You’re on my side!”

The use of Katie almost wins her over but then her stomach grumbles and it looks like her decision is made. She shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, Chloe.”

“Traitor,” Chloe huffs, crossing her arms.

Max cheers triumphantly.

“But you’re forgetting one thing!”

Max stops cheering, eyeing Chloe. “And what’s that?”

Chloe smirks. “I’m taller than both of you!”

Just as she lunges for the picture, Kate ducks beneath Max’s legs and lifts the girl onto her shoulders. It’s a lot easier than it should be.

“No fair! You get the werewolf with super strength!” Chloe jump for the picture. Max holds it tauntingly out of reach.

“Say you’ll buy us dinner!”

“Not a chance!”

This only starts a chant between Max and Kate of “Dinner! Dinner!”

“Fine! I’ll buy you dinner!”

Max whoops in victory a Kate lets her down. Chloe shakes her head, probably reconsidering her life choices.

“Shut up and get in the car,” Chloe says with no bite. “And I’ll be taking that.” She plucks the picture from Max’s unwitting hand, ignoring her protest of “Hey!” “And neither one of you are getting a copy.”

Kate gets into the car after Max, not at all caring that she hasn’t even seen the picture.

* * *

Dinner turns out to be takeaway fast food from some local shithole. The burgers are greasy, the fries are too salty, and Kate savors every single bite as if it were her last. She’s not sure if it’s because she’d never been allowed to eat fast food as a child (or teenager or young adult really) or if she’s really just that hungry. Either way, she makes Chloe drive around again for another burger and gives the girl in the drive-thru five dollars just because she can.

The general good mood atmosphere persists even after the food is gone. They joke and laugh and enjoy each other’s company and for a little while, Kate pretends that everything’s normal.

But things aren’t normal. Kate is a werewolf. There are other werewolves out there. One of them is missing and no one has any idea why.

Now three teenaged almost adults need to find her before it’s too late.

Sounds like the trailer for a bad action movie.

Kate sighs. They need to talk about it eventually but she sure as shit isn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Surprisingly, it’s Max who breaks the silence. “What if Rachel’s the one who bit Kate?”

Kate and Chloe both stare at Max, wide eyed. “Hell of a leap there, don’t you think?” Chloe says.

“Hear me out.” Max takes her journal out of her bag and opens to a page filled with hastily scribbled notes, little wolf doodles, and a picture of Rachel from her missing persons flier. Chloe and Kate lean over her shoulders to get a better look. The notes are a little hard to read and more than a few words are crossed out but it looks like different facts and theories regarding Rachel.

“Been watching too much CSI, huh, Max?” Chloe’s smiling, though. For the first time since last night, she looks hopeful. Kate finds herself feeling the same way. Max might be onto something.

“I’ve been thinking actually.” Max grabs a pen from her bag. She points to the dates written on the page. “Okay, so Thursday night, Kate got bit, right? Then Saturday morning, Esther White turns up dead near Blackwell. Chloe, you said Rachel always changed the night after the full moon, too, right?”

Chloe nods. “Of and after. Fuck if I know why.”

“Okay, so, if there was a werewolf somewhere close enough to Blackwell on Thursday, they’re probably the same one who killed Esther Friday night. Then Sunday, we find Rachel’s blood and it’s fresh?”

Kate nods, mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. “I don’t think it was more than a day old.”

“Right. So we know that Rachel must have been there either Friday or Saturday. Now, I think she escaped wherever she was and came to Blackwell on Thursday night. That’s where she bites Kate and…”

“And probably killed Esther,” Chloe finishes for her.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Kate says because even though these two deny it, Kate knows that she might have killed Esther. No matter how much they think she didn’t, it’s still possible.

Max nods. “Right.” She clears her throat. “Either way, she ends up in the junkyard and gets injured. After that, we don’t know.”

“Okay, solid theory,” Chloe says. “Two things. One, why would Rachel go to Blackwell if she escaped? Two, if you think she was at Blackwell on Friday night, what made her go to the junkyard?”

Max sits back, biting her pen thoughtfully. “I think she went to Blackwell because it was familiar.”

“Home,” Kate says. “She would have wanted to go home.”

“Blackwell was her home for nearly a year,” Chloe says. “Makes sense she’d want to go back there. But then why leave?”

“I think something happened.” Max leans forward again, tapping a doodle of two wolves fighting. “It’s possible that she met Kate and didn’t feel safe anymore. The next closest thing to home would be the junkyard, right?”

“It’s still a leap, though,” Kate says. “Look, no matter how much you two deny it, I still could have been the one who killed Esther.”

“Kate, you didn’t,” Max starts.

Kate holds up a hand to silence her. “I could have, though. Everything with Rachel might have happened Thursday night, right?”

“So, what,” Chloe says. “Rachel escapes from God knows where, run to Blackwell, attacks a person, runs to the junkyard, gets injured, and leaves the junkyard all in a single night? Sorry, I’m going to have to call bullshit on that one.”

“It’s still possible.” Kate scrubs her hands over her face. She’s tired and her eyes burn. She wonders how they went from joking and laughing to this in a matter of minutes. “Maybe she left Blackwell specifically because she attacked me. Even if it seems unlikely, it’s still possible.”

“Okay, fine, it’s technically possible. Does it matter? Rachel would still be the one who bit you and we’re still no closer to finding her.”

Kate bites her tongue because of course it fucking matters – Esther mattered – but Chloe is still right. Even if Rachel did bite Kate, they still don’t know how to find her.

“Maybe,” Max says. “But we know where she was last. We didn’t exactly take a look around yesterday.”

It’s quiet for a moment. None of them want to go back to the junkyard but it’s all they’ve got. “I might be able to catch a scent,” Kate says even though she doesn’t want to. _Suck it up_ , she tells herself. If it’ll help find Rachel, she’ll do it in a second.

Chloe nods and starts the car. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice.”

They drive.

* * *

Max manages to take a picture of the blood stain before the sun sets.

Chloe stands as far from the spot as she can without actually leaving the shack. “This was our secret place,” she says, voice soft and wistful. Kate thinks she must be lost in a memory. “We came here a lot after she got bit. She said it calmed her down.” She snorts, short and sad. “Guess now I know why.”

Kate puts a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. She thinks about saying something. Something meaningless but comforting like ‘we’ll find her’ or ‘it’ll be okay’ but Kate knows Chloe’s not one for sentiment. So Kate says “It’s because she loved you.” At least it’s true.

Chloe elbows her gently in the ribs. “Could you be any more corny? You act more like a marshmallow than a bloodthirsty beast of the night.”

“It’s because I’m so sweet,” Kate says, throwing on her cheekiest grin.

Chloe groans but she’s smiling now. Kate will have to be corny in the future.

A camera shutter goes off. Max stands, shaking the developing photo. Chloe gives her a look. “What?” she says. “You took the last one, this one’s mine.”

“Do I at least get to see this one?” Chloe asks. Kate’s reminded that she still hasn’t seen the first one.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Max hands her the photo and she’s gracious enough to show it to Kate.

It’s actually a really pretty picture. The setting sun behind them gives their silhouettes a golden glow around the edges without making them look shadowed. Kate’s not sure how Max balances the light like that without overexposing the photo. She’s even managed to crop out the garbage backdrop while still getting some of the taller evergreens in the shot.

The best part, though, is Chloe. She’s smiling in a way that crinkles her nose and shows her teeth. Her pink cheeks stand out against her blue hair. She looks absolutely beautiful.

Kate knows without even looking that her photo self is staring at Chloe like the sun shines out of her ass.

She nicks the photo from Chloe’s hand and shoves it gently into her coat pocket. “Sorry, Max, but I’m going to have to keep this one.”

Max pouts but doesn’t protest. “Fine, fine, I’m sure I’ll get another one eventually.”

Kate chooses not to think about what she means by that for the moment. They’ve got work to do after all.

Now Kate really does feel like she’s in a bad action movie.

Chloe and Max check out the shack’s interior while Kate sniffs quite literally around it. Now that she knows what she’s looking for, she smells Rachel everywhere. It’s similar to the scent of vanilla that seems permanently infused with Max’s skin – low-key yet distinct enough that she immediately associates it with Rachel. She can’t put a name to it, though. It’s vaguely floral but not in a perfume kind of way. It doesn’t quite smell like the forest, though, either. It’s just Rachel.

Kate swipes two fingers through the blood but it’s long dried. There’s more dirt on Kate’s fingers than blood and that thought only serves to gross her out. Grimacing, she smells it anyway.

Lately, Kate’s reminded of her cousin’s wedding cake whenever she smells something. They hadn’t been able to decide whether to get chocolate, yellow, or red velvet, so they’d gotten all three layered together in a surprisingly delicious mismatch of colors. Scents are kind of like that in reverse. With her cousin’s cake, Kate could see the different flavors but they all mixed together in her mouth. Scents mix together on the surface but the more Kate concentrates, the more noticeable the layers become.

On the surface, the stain smells like rusted iron, as blood seems to from Kate’s limited experience. Underneath the metallic scent is something different. It’s not the same floral scent that coats the junkyard; it’s the feeling scent. It’s musky and almost animalistic. It reminds Kate of the dog she had growing up. She wonders if this is what wolves smell like, too.

Kate takes out Rachel’s bracelet and stares at it. On the surface, it smells floral, like the junkyard. Underneath, there’s the animal scent. She must have worn it a lot even after she got bit.

But there’s something bothering Kate about it. Even after five months, the floral scent remains but that’s it. The junkyard as a whole doesn’t smell musky; it smells floral, except for this one spot. Chloe had said that Rachel came here more often after she’d been bit but it doesn’t smell like it. It doesn’t smell like she lingered anywhere long enough for the animal scent to stick to anything. Kate’s not sure what that means but she makes a mental note of it anyway.

There’s another odor surrounding the blood stain. It’s very faint, covered almost completely by the trash and flowers. Kate can’t quite describe it. It’s clean, almost to the point of sterile. Kate’s first thought is of a hospital but that’s not quite right either. The closest thing she can think of is something loosely medical.

There’s something else, too – something familiar. It’s like a face without a name. She knows she knows it but she doesn’t know where from or what it even is. It’s like soap residue in the shower. It’s so indistinct and buried under everything else, it might as well not be there but that doesn’t mean you can’t still slip on it if you’re not careful.

There was someone else here besides Rachel and Kate doesn’t think it was another werewolf.

Kate can’t track the sterile scent. She walks through the junkyard and into the woods, trying to catch it, but there’s nothing. Even though Kate tells herself it was a long shot, that it’s been days probably and she doubts the other person had hung around very long, she’s still disappointed. _What’s the use of these stupid powers if I can’t find Rachel?_

Then something familiar does catch her attention and this time, she knows why. It’s musky and animalistic and definitely not clean or floral.

Werewolf. 

Kate takes off running.

* * *

The forest is almost pitch black in the absence of the sun yet Kate can see as if it were the middle of the day. Even days after the full, the waning moon glows bright overhead. Here, running through the forest in the almost dark, it hits Kate just how much her senses have sharpened.

It feels so much like following the gasoline scent to Chloe or even following vanilla all the way from the church to Max at the diner. She turns with the scent, weaving through the trees as if it were her own backyard. Her heart races, struggling to keep up with her legs. It’s exhilarating and liberating all at the same time. She lets her instincts guide her.

Pine needles mix with saltwater at the edge of the forest. The ocean breeze drifts lazily through her hair, which has only partially fallen out. Maybe the loose bun isn’t the best style for her to be using anymore.

Kate pulls her hair into a tight ponytail if only to give her pulse the chance to slow down a bit. For the most part, the beach is empty. There aren’t any high schoolers sitting around a bon fire or couples taking a romantic walk. Not even a stray seagull chirps on the boardwalk. If Kate didn’t know any better, she’d think she just ran several miles on a wild goose chase.

But the scent persists somewhere down the beach. Even though Kate can’t see it, she knows it’s there.

Something vibrates in Kate’s pocket, startling her. Holy shit has her phone always been so loud? She stumbles to answer it almost dropping it in the process. “Yeah?” she answers without checking the caller ID.

“Where the flying fuck are you?”

Oh, right. She’d left Chloe and Max back in the junkyard.

Oops.

“I’m at the beach,” she whispers because super senses or not, there’s no way someone won’t hear Chloe on the other end of the line.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re at the fucking beach? We called you like six times! Do you know how fucking worried we were?”

“Chloe, that’s a stop sign.”

“Fuck the stop signs, Max!”

“Let me have the phone.”

“No way! I’m not done yelling at her yet!”

“Chloe, you’re going to get us both killed!”

“I am not!”

“Give me the phone!”

Kate sighs, holding her own phone to her chest. ‘ _Better a patient person than a warrior, one with self-control than one who takes a city,’_ Kate thinks. She scrubs her hands over her eyes. They certainly are testing her.

“Kate, why are you at the beach?” Max’s calm voice filters through the receiver. Kate can still hear Chloe grumbling incoherently in the background.

“I think I found another werewolf,” she says and then regrets it half a second later when double shouts of “what!” nearly deafen her right here. “Keep your voices down!” she hisses. “They’ll hear you.”

“Kind of late for that, I think.”

Kate whips around and finds herself staring at a pair of livid golden eyes.

Shit, shit, _shit_!

The man – _werewolf_ – grabs Kate’s phone. She can hear Max and Chloe on the line shouting for her and he fucking crushes her phone in his _hand_ like a toothpick. She swallows thickly. _Fuck, shit, this is so not good!_

“You know, if you wanna sneak up on someone, you might try shutting the fuck up,” he growls, deep and menacing. He bears his teeth (fangs! He has fucking fangs!) “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Kate scrambles back, climbing to her feet with all the grace of a newborn calf. Oh, God, oh no, oh shit. The hair on the back of her neck rises. She feels her teeth lengthen, nails sharpen. She takes a step back. Shit, shit, shit! This guy, this other werewolf, might have bitten Rachel! Fuck, for all Kate knows, he killed her, too! Shit, fuck, she can’t _fight_ this guy!

He growls again, crouching. His claws are out, now, too and fuck; this is not what Kate wanted to happen! “I don’t ask twice.”

He attacks faster than Kate can blink, grabbing her collar, lifting her like she’s nothing, and oh fuck!

Her blood pumps in her ears, nerves spiked with adrenaline. He could kill her, _he could kill her_.

_No, no way am I dying here!_

Kate growls and digs her claws into his wrist but his grip only tightens. She needs to get away, has to make him let go! She swings her foot up and connects hard with his jaw. He drops her.

In one swift motion, Kate rolls away from him and onto her feet.

The man rubs his jaw. “That’s your last mistake.”

He comes at her again and this time she’s ready.

Kate sidesteps left into the forest. She ducks behind a tree a millisecond before he swipes his claws at her, leaving deep gashes in the bark. She swings around him, back onto the beach. She can’t fight, she can’t win, she needs to run!

She doesn’t get very far. The man grabs her wrist and throws her into the nearest tree. Kate’s head snaps back, colliding painfully with the bark. Her vision spots for a moment. _No, no, no,_ her mind shouts at her. _Kate Marsh, you are not dying!_

Claws tear into her chest before she can even get to her feet. She screams. It hurts, _it hurts so much._ She grits her teeth – _fangs_. She’s got claws, too.

The man swipes again. Kate grabs his arm, clawing his wrist. She pulls, jaw clamping down on his shoulder. Fangs bite, blood pours, she can smell it; she can _taste_ it. He wretches away, flesh tearing like tissue. He roars, furious.

Without thinking, Kate sprints forward and throws all one hundred and thirty pounds of herself at him with the force of a freight train. He goes down. Kate runs.

He’s behind her in an instant, she knows. His steps are heavy even on the sand. He’s bleeding. Kate’s bleeding, too, head pounding, fuck, _fuck_.

Kate hears a growl in front of her a split second before she feels teeth gripping her arm. She takes a moment to think, _Are you fucking kidding me?_ because there is a fucking dog attached to her fucking arm and she doesn’t fucking have time for this!

With a growl, she turns on her heels and throws the dog at the man. He actually stops to catch it, looking genuinely concerned and isn’t that fucking nice?

Kate hears a familiar truck in the distance and it’s gaining fast. Without thinking, she throws her head back and howls.

Then she’s on her back again, sand scraping against open wounds. Her ears ring. She blinks, barely conscious. Fuck.

There’s growling. She smells blood and petrol and above it all, vanilla. Kate hears them calling for her but she can’t understand the words.

A growl.

A gunshot. 

Silence.

* * *

“I told you not to call me at work.”

Fucking prick. He’s not a God damn child anymore.

Whatever.

His father sighs on the other end. It’s a frustrated sigh, like he’s fucking sick of dealing with his brat of a son.

If he didn’t fucking want a son, he didn’t need to have one.

“What was so important that you needed to call me?”

He bites his tongue until it bleeds. He has one job – to watch and report – and now he’s fucking that up like he fucks up everything else. And his father doesn’t even give a fuck. Fuck it. If his father doesn’t want to hear it, he’s not going to fucking tell him.

“It was nothing,” he says. “I’m sorry.” It’s tacked on as an afterthought, completely meaningless like the rest if their relationship.

The old man grunts. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“It won’t.”

The call ends.

Just a moment, for just a second before the line cuts, he swears he hears someone screaming.

He knows it’s her. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than usual. I got kind of distracted TBH.

 

Before she’s aware of anything else, Kate smells blood – pungent, thick and all-encompassing.

The next thing to break through the haze is sound. Muffled voices, loud and angry and soft and sweet all at once, reach her ears as if she were underwater.

Kate tries to focus. Her eyelids are too heavy. She doesn’t have the strength to open them. So, she listens.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t fucking do anything! Put that shit away!”

“Stay back! I won’t miss next time.”

“You don’t know what you’re fucking doing!”

“Shut up! Where’s Rachel?”

“Rachel?”

“Don’t fuck with me, asshole! Tell me what you did to her!”

“Fuck you! I didn’t do shit!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!”

“Kate? Kate, wake up!”

The soft voice calls to her above the others. There’s a hand on her arm and vanilla in the air.

“Max?”

Kate opens her eyes.

“Kate!”

There’s a pair of arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. Kate’s only vaguely aware of the pain in her back and chest and she’s bleeding all over Max’s shirt. It doesn’t matter. She squeezes Max just as tight.

The other voices, Chloe and the werewolf, cease. The only sound is something whimpering like a wounded animal. Kate hopes it’s not her.

“Your friend is fine,” the man says. “Now get the fuck out of here while I’m feeling generous.”

“No fucking way,” Chloe says. She’s holding a gun. Why the fuck does Chloe have a gun?

The man growls low in his throat but doesn’t move. Kate only then realizes the whimpering is coming from his feet. _Oh, God, oh my God_ , Kate’s mind repeats.

Had she hurt the dog?

Oh _shit_ , no, no, not the dog. She didn’t mean to! He was just protecting his owner; he didn’t deserve to get hurt. That poor thing! He needs to see a vet!

“Kate? Kate, are you okay?” Max asks, pulling away.

Kate can’t take her eyes off the dog lying in pain at the man’s feet. No, no she is not okay. Nothing is okay! “Max, I hurt the dog.”

Max blinks once. Twice.

It’s silent for a moment.

Then Chloe shouts “Are you fucking serious!” and the tension is gone.

Despite having a gun aimed him, the man laughs. “What? Old Pompidou?” He gestures to the dog at his heels and really? Pompidou? The dog, apparently named Pompidou (seriously, what?) while tense, seems uninjured and isn’t actually lying down like Kate had thought; he’s just short. “He’s a lot tougher than that.” Pompidou barks as if to agree.

So then, the whimpering… “Oh, God, it was me?”

“Kate, what are you talking about?” Max says.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Kate shakes her head. She has to lean on Max when she stands but at least she can stand. All things considered, it could be worse.

“See? She’s fine.” The man, whose name Kate never actually learned, no longer seems very concerned about the gun or injured werewolf within striking distance. Not that Kate could do anything right now even if she wanted to (which she doesn’t). “Now leave.”

“Not until you tell me what happened to Rachel,” Chloe hisses. Her hands shake around the gun.

The man flinches, whether at the name or the weapon, Kate’s not sure. “Why the fuck do you even wanna know?”

“Chloe, please,” Max says. Chloe hesitates. “Chloe.”

She scowls but lowers the gun nonetheless. Kate can almost feel everyone collectively exhale.

“We’re looking for Rachel,” Max says to the man. “Did you know her?”

“None of your fucking business,” he spits. “Bunch of high school girls make friends with a werewolf, suddenly you wanna go on a fucking adventure? This isn’t a fucking game.”

“Fuck off, prick. We know you were at the junkyard,” Chloe growls more intimidating than Kate’s ever managed and she doesn’t even have fangs. “Did you hurt her? I swear to God, if you hurt her-“

“I didn’t fucking hurt anybody! For your information, she bit me, not the other way around!” He takes a step forward; Chloe raises the gun. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me or Rachel!”

“Fuck you!”

“Chloe, calm down!” Max sounds desperate. 

Kate looks between Max and Chloe and the man and Chloe and the gun and the man and oh, God. Someone’s going to get hurt.

Ignoring the pain, Kate runs forward and puts herself between the man and Chloe. He snarls claws out; Chloe raises the gun above Kate’s shoulder. Max shouts. This is bad; this is so, so bad.

Kate takes a deep breath. “Please, just calm down!” _Yeah, Marsh, they’re definitely going to listen to you_ , she chastises herself. Well, too late now. “Rachel bit me, too and I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m sorry for hurting you but we just want to find her.”

The man blinks, eyes changing from gold to brown. Absently, Kate’s mind reminds her of the bathroom Thursday night. Do her eyes really change color, too? _Not now_ , Kate tells herself.

The man is still tense but his claws change into normal human nails. Kate takes it as a good sign. “Rachel’s been missing for five months. What the fuck makes you think it was her?” he asks almost apprehensively. He seems nervous. Kate tries to listen to his heartbeat but it’s hard to pick out when all four of them sound the same in that moment.

“Wasn’t you, was it, assface?”

“Chloe!”

“What!”

Kate ignores the girls behind her. “We found her blood in the junkyard.” His eyes widen. Kate goes on. “We were there looking for clues. I tried to catch her scent and caught yours instead.”

The man crosses his arms, glowering. “You really don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, do you.”

“That’s why we need your help,” Max says. “Please, if you know anything you have to tell us.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit!”

Kate bites her lip and looks at the ground. She can’t blame him but this might be their only lead on Rachel. They need this guy to cooperate. Kate tries to think of something, anything to say.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll tell you! Just stop with the damn doe eyes!” the man shouts. Kate blinks. Huh, that was easy. “And Blue waits in the truck.”

“Hey!”

“Chloe!”

“Max, he almost killed Kate!”

“She’s the one who snuck up on _me_!” the man says.

“So you attack her?”

“I have the right to defend myself and my property!”

“This is a public beach, douche canoe!”

_‘Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.’_ Kate thinks. She has never found a verse so true.

“Chloe, wait in the car!” Kate finally says because what even is a douche canoe? Kate doesn’t know but she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to find out. Chloe looks utterly affronted. “Please,” Kate amends.

She wavers, biting her lip. After a moment, she puts the gun away. “Fine. But I’ll be watching.” She doesn’t turn her back to them the whole way to the truck. She leans against the edge and that’ll have to be good enough for the guy. At least she put the gun away.

“So,” he says. “The fuck do you wanna know?”

Right, that’s why they came here in the first place. Kate clears her throat, suddenly not sure where to start. Max stands beside her, hand on her back. “Um.”

The guy rolls his eyes. “Well?”

“Is your dog really okay?” is the first thing Kate says because it’s really what she’s most concerned about at the moment. Or at any moment, really.

“He’s fine. That all?”

“What Kate means,” Max cuts in and thank God. Kate is really not cut out for this detective stuff. “She’s Kate by the way. I’m Max and that’s Chloe.” She gestures to the girl more or less sulking by the truck. Kate is definitely going to have to make it up to her.

“I gathered; name’s Frank,” the man, Frank, says, and this is good. Now Kate doesn’t have to refer him as that guy. This is going well, she thinks.

“Frank.” Max nods. “How do you know Rachel?”

“Told you, she bit me.”

“What happened?”

Frank sighs. He looks pained, sad even, though Kate has no idea why. “We were close,” he says.

Oh.

_Oh._

Oh, no.

Kate frowns and glances at Chloe. She’s watching them, lips pursed. Kate can hear her scuffing the dirt with her toe. She couldn’t have known, could she? Kate doesn’t think so.

This is going to break her heart.

“Last February,” Frank continues. “She lost control during the full moon and attacked me. After that, she never came back.” Sorrow crosses his face for a moment before he shakes his head. “Saw the posters two months later. First I thought she ran but…” he trails off.

“You didn’t look for her at all?” Max doesn’t ask it accusingly. It’s just a question.

“She didn’t want me to. We always got together on her terms and I was fine with that. If she didn’t wanna see me, she didn’t see me. Can’t tell you much else.”

Max nods, biting her lip. If Frank hadn’t seen her for two months before she disappeared, he wouldn’t know where she is now.

“Hey,” he says. “If you find anything, tell me, all right? I’ll see if I can find anything. Rachel might have dumped my ass but I still care about her.”

Max nods again. “Sure thing. Thanks for talking to us.”

Frank turns to head back to his RV and something just doesn’t feel right about this. Kate fingers the bracelet in her pocket. “Hey, wait.” She hands him the bracelet when he turns around. “It was Rachel’s.”

Frank nods. “Smells like her,” he says with a small smile. “Thanks.”

Kate smiles. Frank’s not a bad guy, really. “And sorry, about before.”

He shrugs. “Nothing we can’t handle. And hey, if you need help with any of this shit, you know how to find me. I know my first month alone was the fucking worst.”

Kate nods. “Thank you.” She heads back over to Max.

“That was nice of you,” she says. She has a hand on Kate’s back all the way to the truck.

“Seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Hope Chloe feels the same way.”

Kate doubts she will.

“I’ll um, tell her,” Max says. “About Frank and Rachel. You’ve been through enough.”

Kate nods. She doesn’t want to leave that to Max. Chloe is her friend, too, and Kate wants to be there for her. But Max knows her better, can read her better, and knows how to handle her better than Kate. Though the truck is only a few yards away, it suddenly feels like there’s a chasm between them. Kate doesn’t think she could make the leap without falling.

* * *

Max spends the night at Chloe’s.

Kate tells her to. She says that she doesn’t want to miss school tomorrow or her parents will suspect something. They try to get her to stay. She’s injured and Chloe has a first aid kit in the house but for once in her life, Kate’s the most stubborn person in the car.

Chloe offers to spend the night at Blackwell with her and Max but Kate knows she doesn’t want to. She sees the dread in Chloe’s face before they even pull into the parking lot. Kate tells her she’s not allowed to on a weekday and Chloe doesn’t fight her.

So they drop her off and Kate doesn’t watch them go.

Kate sneaks back into the dorms and only stops by her room for a second to grab her pajamas. Thankfully, no one’s awake. Of course, the lack of distraction leaves Kate alone with her thoughts.

It could be worse but in the moment, she’s not sure how.

In the washroom, Kate wonders if she’ll ever have a normal shower again. It’s strange how much she misses the smell of peaches. The only reason she ever used it to begin with is because it had been the only one in the bathroom at the time. Kate just kind of stuck with it, even after her mom and sisters had taken to florals.

She’s never been good at dealing with change.

Kate doesn’t bother to look at her wounds; they’ll be gone by tomorrow morning anyway. She does wonder how to explain the need for a new phone to her parents though. At least she doesn’t need to worry about the clothes since she wears basically the same thing every day anyway.

Then again, she does still have the clothes Chloe loaned her. She wonders how people would react if she walked into class wearing ripped jeans and a V-neck.

She lost her necklace somewhere along the line and that’s probably the most upsetting part. Kate feels kind of petty. Getting a new phone is a lot more expensive than a new necklace that hadn’t even been real gold in the first place. It was just a simple cross necklace that she’d received as a birthday gift from some aunt or uncle or cousin. She can’t remember. It didn’t really have any sentimental value; it was just the necklace she’d taken to wearing. It was practical and modest so Kate never needed another necklace.

Now she does, though. Kate fantasizes about the kind of necklace she should buy. She knows she’ll end up getting another plain gold cross but just for a little bit, she indulges. Her mind wanders to some of the stylized crosses she’s seen in stores – pointed charms etched from pewter with Celtic knots and different stones. Gothic styles have always fascinated her.

Kate shakes her head. She knows the whole point of a plain gold cross is that it’s modest. ‘ _Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them._ ’ Kate has always been modest and soft-spoken, never attracting attention to herself.

Kate wonders when modest became synonymous with inconspicuous.

She snorts. There’s not much that’s inconspicuous about her anymore.

Alice is awake when Kate goes back to her room. She takes the bunny out of her cage and sits on the floor with her. For the most part, Alice contents herself with playing with her toys and nibbling on a small piece of carrot (Kate always keeps some in the mini fridge as treats). She comes by Kate every once in a while for pets. At some point, she lies on Kate’s lap and doesn’t get up. It’s only then that Kate realizes she’s crying.

She wipes her eyes furiously. _This is so stupid, stop being stupid_ , she tells herself. It doesn’t help very much.

But it _is_ ; it’s all so _stupid_. And Kate has no idea why she’s crying or why she feels so sad all of a sudden.

Is it all of a sudden, though?

Kate shakes her head. She doesn’t want to feel this way. Chloe and Max are still her friends even if they don’t spend every waking moment with her. They’ll still be her friends even if they spend time alone together. Kate _wants_ them to spend time together. They need each other, more than Kate needs either one of them right now.

But in the truck, when Max put a hand on Chloe’s arm and told her it would be okay, Kate’s chest hurt. It should have made her happy, seeing the distance between them close even just a little bit. She’s always known she could never have what they have. She’s lost too much time and the chasm is too wide.

So she watched from the passenger seat as they grew closer.

It’s strange that even sitting with just a few inches between them, Kate felt half a world away.

Now Kate sits in the dark, crying.

She knows it’s pathetic but for now, she can’t get over how incredibly alone she feels.

* * *

Kate awakens to someone knocking on her door.

She never actually made it to the bed last night but at least she fell asleep before the sun rose. She sits up and looks around. Alice has made herself a nest in a blanket she somehow managed to pull onto the floor (because despite all the werewolf shit, Kate is still fussy enough to clean her room before classes and that blanket definitely wasn’t on the floor last night). She picks up the sleeping bunny and deposits her in her cage.

Alice secure, Kate takes a brief look in the mirror before she opens the door. She can already smell vanilla and cigarette smoke and coffee but she checks herself over just in case. Like before, the wounds have healed completely. Not so much as a scar remains.

Maybe this werewolf stuff has its perks after all.

The pounding on the door continues, pulling Kate from her thoughts. “Wake the fuck up! We’ve got coffee!”

“Chloe, you’re going to wake the whole dorm.”

Kate hides a giggle behind her hand. She’s reminded why she loves these two so much. “Coming,” she sings, pulling the door open.

“She’s alive!” “Morning, Kate,” Chloe and Max say at the same time.

“Morning,” Kate says.

“We come bearing gifts.” Chloe hands her a still warm foam cup. Kate takes a sniff – pumpkin spice. She could kiss the two of them right now.

“I remember you said you liked it,” Max says because she is clearly a beautiful angel too perfect for this world.

“I do, thank you.” Kate takes a long sip. Warmth spreads through her chest though from the drink or something else, Kate’s not sure. She relishes in the feeling either way. “What are you two doing here, though? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Kind of figured you wouldn’t have an alarm clock without your phone. And I do go to school here, you know.”

“And I totally got her here on time, Ms. Perfect Attendance Record,” Chloe says. “So there goes your excuse for not sleeping over next time. ‘Sides, all Max did was talk about you anyway.”

“I was just worried.” Max pouts, her cheeks turning pink. “And who was it that almost took off at three in the morning to check on her?”

Kate lifts her brows. “You did?”

“Bite me; I was worried, too,” Chloe says, also blushing. “And we couldn’t text so.”

Kate feels her lips break into a wide smile. _These two_ , she thinks wistfully. Now she knows the warmth in her chest isn’t just the pumpkin spice latte.

She wraps the two of them into a tight hug. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to me.”

Max places a hand on her back while Chloe pats her hair. “Sentimental marshmallow.”

And just like that, the chasm closes.

* * *

By some miraculous twist of fate, Kate and Max share nearly identical class schedules (the few exceptions being photography versus a writer’s workshop and an art class Tuesdays and Wednesdays). This particular Tuesday, Kate’s the first person to leave The Art of Illustration and probably the first person to leave any classroom because she somehow manages not to catch eight different conversations at once. Not one to question her good fortune, Kate nearly runs to meet with Max outside of her Language of Photography class.

Kate leans against the wall as students empty into the hallway. None of them are Max but that’s fine. Kate can smell her somewhere in the classroom even above the noxious mix of Axe and perfume. She hasn’t had much time to really think about the effect Max’s scent has on her but she’s self-aware enough to recognize that there is one – a very nice one in fact. It’s grounding, like an anchor keeping Kate tied down to Earth. Sometimes she feels like she’ll just float away without it.

Maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with her new werewolf superpowers (as Chloe likes to call them). Kate’s read enough young adult fiction to know that relying too much on one person can sometimes mean you lose your sense of self. But lately it feels like all Kate’s been doing is losing herself. Every time there’s too much noise or too many smells or when she’s angry or scared or overwhelmed, Kate feels like she loses herself to the depths of her own mind. It’s like there’s a wolf howling beneath her skin. Max keeps it from escaping.

Even here in the hallway with too many people talking too loud all at once, Max’s scent rises above it all. Kate’s not sure if it’s just something familiar to focus on or if there’s something unique about Max that keeps her from losing her mind. All she knows right now is that being near Max is stable and comforting – as if she were home.

She wonders if Chloe did the same for Rachel.

Kate’s not sure she’s ready to think about the implications of _that_ , which is just as well because Max chooses that moment to exit the classroom. The two share a smile. “You didn’t have to wait for me,” Max says.

Kate shrugs. “I wanted to,” she replies. “Besides, I didn’t want to risk being caught alone in the classroom with Victoria and her groupies.”

“Or Nathan Prescott.”

Oh right, he’s in that class, too. Kate hasn’t actually thought of him at all since apologizing to him yesterday. If he were anyone else, Kate might actually think he’s avoiding her. It’s not as if they make a point to talk to each other, though so maybe she’s just overthinking things.

Maybe.

* * *

Okay, maybe not.

The entire time she’s in Science Lab, Kate feels eyes on her. She has a sneaking suspicion about who those eyes belong to but every time she turns around, no one’s even looking her way. Everyone seems far too focused on finding the right ratio of hydrogen to oxygen to quite literally blow up bubbles with the loudest bang.

Kate hates this lesson.

Fortunately for her, Tuesday’s class, much like her PE class, is mostly comprised of people here for artistic reasons. Thus, she and Max are the only pair to actually discover the correct ratio (and by discover, Kate means Max texted Warren after about ten minutes). As in the hallway, Max’s scent keeps Kate from actually running out of the room every time someone gets close to the answer (why the answer is even important is beyond Kate; she thinks maybe Ms. Grant has a sadistic side no one knows about.) Despite having Max’s hand rubbing circles on her back, Kate still has a raging headache before the lesson is even half over.

Kate knows she looks pissed off when she’s in pain as her sisters almost never miss the chance to tell her. It actually comes in handy sometimes in that no one messes with her when she really does not want to be messed with. But lycanthropy seems to have increased her resting bitch face tenfold. Max finds it fascinating enough to take a picture.

Kate doesn’t realize she’s growling until the shutter actually goes off next to her. “Max,” she tries to sound upset but it comes out as more of a whine.

“Sorry, sorry,” Max says even though she’s clearly not. “I’ve just never seen you look like that before.”

Max hands Kate the photo and shit, her sisters were right. She really hopes the murderous glint in her eyes is because of the whole werewolf thing and not just her face. Kate pouts. _Do I really look like that?_

In the background of the photo, though, Nathan Prescott is looking right at her with furrowed brows. When she glances over at him for the third time since the start of class, he’s staring intently at his notebook, the very picture of concentration.

Max follows her eyes between Nathan and the photo. “He’s been staring at you like that the whole class.”

Kate nods because she already knows. What she doesn’t know is why. “He was asking Chloe about Rachel yesterday,” she whispers.

Max lifts a brow. “Did he know Rachel?”

“Chloe said they knew of him but she didn’t think he and Rachel were friends.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time she hid one of her relationships from Chloe, though.”

“Maybe Rachel was just afraid to tell her? I can’t see Chloe and Nathan getting along.”

“Maybe.” Max sounds skeptical but she doesn’t say anymore on that subject. She takes out her journal and opens to a clean page. “What did he ask?”

“Probably just what happened to her? Chloe didn’t actually tell me and I didn’t think to ask.”

Max tapes the photo to the page and circles Nathan with a red marker. “I’ll text Chloe after class.”

“You don’t think Nathan’s involved, do you?”

“It’s possible.” Max taps her chin thoughtfully. “Either way, he probably knows something. It’s too much of a coincidence for him to ask about her right after we find her blood.”

Kate nods but something still nags at her. “How would he know about the blood, though?”

“Maybe he’s been following you? I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“If he has, I haven’t noticed.”

Max frowns. “I still think we should keep an eye on him. Even if there’s only a small chance, he’s the only lead we have right now.”

Kate nods. “We have to be careful, though. If Nathan really is involved, if he suspects we know something, it could be really bad for us and for Rachel.”

“We should try asking around. Rachel went to school here; someone might have noticed something.”

Kate has to stop herself from groaning. She learned very clearly last night that she’s not good at the whole interview thing.

Max pats her shoulder sympathetically. “Okay, I’ll ask around. You keep an eye on Nathan.”

“If he’s been following me, though, won’t he notice me following him?”

“He doesn’t know that you know he’s been following you, though. You’ll just have to follow him while he’s following you. You follow?”

_Not in the slightest_ , Kate thinks. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Doing what?”

“Repeating words to confuse me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Max’s smile is far too innocent for Kate to believe that. “Hey, your headache’s gone, isn’t it? You don’t look homicidal anymore.”

Kate blinks. Her head actually does feel better. She hadn’t even noticed the pops in the room as students finally got the right ratio and class is almost over.

She smiles and bumps Max’s shoulder. What would Kate do without her?

* * *

“Are you sure that’s all he said?” Max asks.

“All he wanted to know was whether or not I really thought she was missing,” Chloe’s voice sounds through the line. “Do you really think he’s involved?”

“I don’t know, but he’s the only thing we’ve got right now.”

Kate bites her lip, half listening to the conversation, half listening for the person they’re talking about. There’s about a half dozen people in the courtyard and none of them are Nathan Prescott. Kate’s not really sure what she’s listening for, if she’s honest. She still feels eyes on her every once in a while but like before, every time she looks, there’s no one. Even when she tries to smell the air, no scent catches her attention (not that she actually knows what Nathan smells like anyway; she has noticed, though, that most guys seem to use the same body spray since they all smell alike and by alike, Kate means gross).

“I gotta go but hey, text me if you find anything out, okay?” Chloe says. “I’ll see if I can come up with anything over here.”

“Will do,” Max replies. “Think you’ll be able to sneak over here this weekend?”

“Doubtful. My mom tore me a new asshole this morning. I’m lucky she didn’t throw me out.”

“Joyce wouldn’t do that.”

“Not unless my step-dildo convinces her. Catch ya later. Bye Kate!” Chloe shouts the last part even though she knows Kate can hear her just fine.

“Bye, Chloe,” Kate says just as loudly.

Max hangs up the phone and punches Kate gently in the shoulder. “Just because I don’t have super hearing doesn’t mean you can shout in my ears, you know.”

Kate snorts in good humor. “Consider it payback for taking that picture.”

“Hey, that picture is a very important part of my artistic expression. This is just you being a meanie.”

“I’m glad you find my pain so aesthetically pleasing.”

“Well you are beautiful.” Max smirks and Kate rolls her eyes. Max is too much of a baby deer for a smirk to look right on her face.

“So what’s the plan,” Kate asks because they are here for a reason.

Max shrugs. “For you? Walk around and see if anything happens.”

“Solid plan, Max.”

“If you have a better idea, go with that. At least you don’t have to go around chatting with Blackwell’s elite.” She stands. “We’ll meet back in my room before the sun sets. Howl if you get into any trouble.”

“Howl? Really?”

“Worked well enough last time.”

And with that Max dashes off.

Kate sighs. On any other Tuesday, she’d head back to her room, do her homework, and go to sleep. Now she needs to stalk her stalker who might not even be stalking her while her best friends try to find clues about a missing girl. She hadn’t thought being a werewolf would also mean being a detective but here she is. Kate really wishes she could call her dad right about now.

Kate stands. She never did go back to the trail where she’d woken up last Friday. If Rachel really had been there like Max said, she might be able to catch her scent.

_Worth a try at least_.

So off into the woods she goes.

* * *

Kate kind of wishes she’d had the good sense to change into pants before trekking through the woods. Just a few hours before the sun sets. Alone.

Well at least she can’t be turned into a werewolf twice.

She hopes.

Kate sighs yet again. She really does not want to get into another fight to the death. She doesn’t think Chloe would swoop in to save her this time. _Get a grip, Kate_.

The forest, Kate thinks idly, is a place of contradiction. It’s devoid of what most people would consider noise yet full of sounds – birds chirp, squirrels scamper along the ground, and the wind rustles the leaves. Even without horns blaring or people talking, the forest is a very loud place.

It’s unnerving, being so far away from civilization. Out here, there are no hospitals or diners. If Kate got stuck out here – if she got hurt out here – no one would be around to help her. She could die out here. She’s already been attacked twice on this very trail.

And yet, Kate’s not afraid. The forest smells of pine trees and rose bushes and earth. The air is fresh, completely lacking in the artificial fruits and candies that litter her dormitory. It’s nice to walk, to get away from the idle chatter. The birds may be loud but she can’t understand them. Her brain doesn’t try to make meaning of their noises.

But Kate knows the rose bushes didn’t just grow here; someone planted them. She knows that less than a ten minute walk from here, Blackwell Academy houses hundreds of students and has for a hundred years. Less than ten minutes from the relative solitude of the forest there’s blacktop and traffic and laughter from a hundred people all at once. Less than ten minutes at the edge of the trees, humanity has set up walls and built invisible lines. Yet even as humanity pushes these lines, dandelions grow through cracks in the sidewalk.

She wonders if this is the inevitable outcome of man versus nature. Maybe werewolves are just the product of man and nature finally colliding. _‘Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds of the heavens?’_

Kate shakes her head. She’s been reading too much classical literature.

A shutter sounds somewhere behind her. It’s not like Max’s analog camera. It’s softer and there’s a quick beep afterwards. Someone’s out here taking pictures with a digital camera. _That’s not so weird_ , she tells herself. This _is_ an art school and plenty of photography students use digital cameras.

Then it happens two more times just a few feet away and Kate finds it just a tad bit suspicious.

She turns on her heels. For a few tense moments, the forest is silent. The birds stop singing, the squirrels stop moving, and not even the wind dares disturb the trees. Kate searches, looking for the smallest movement, listening for any sound.

There’s nothing.

Maybe Kate’s just being paranoid. She takes a deep, cleansing breath.

That’s different.

Beneath the scent of earth and decaying leaves, something artificial seeps into the air. It’s cool, almost minty but without the sweetness of candy cane body wash. It’s not unfamiliar but it doesn’t feel like it belongs here.

Kate turns and takes off running.

* * *

“Have you been taking your medication lately?” he asks in the gentlest voice he can manage. It’s getting more and more difficult to keep his cool. Maybe he should up his own dosage. Of course, that might very well kill her and he can’t have that.

The line is silent and that answers his question for him.

He sighs. This fucking kid doesn’t understand. “You need to take it.”

“It’s not fucking helping!”

He knows a lie when he hears one. “Why aren’t you taking it?”

“I already told you, it’s not helping!”

“Look, we can play this game all day and all night for the next month if you want but you know what happens when you don’t take it.”

“I’m fine!”

He lights a cigarette. He hates dealing with this brat. “There’s a report in the coroner’s office that begs to differ.”

The line is silent. He can almost hear the brat’s heart stop beating through the phone.

“Look, whether you kill someone next month or not, that’s not my problem. But if you don’t take your medication, it _becomes_ my problem. Understand?” 

The kid swallows audibly. “Yes.”

“Good, I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding. Listen, I’ve got to go but I’ll check in later, okay? And I _will_ be checking in later.” There’s a very thinly veiled threat laced in his words. He knows the brat can hear it.

“Yes.”

Confirmation in hand, he hangs up the phone. He takes a long drag of his cigarette.

It’s going to be a long month.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later update! This is actually the last of my backlogged chapters. I'd wanted to finish chapter seven before posting this but that didn't happen. Updates will be slower going now but I'm hoping no slower than a chapter every month or so. That sounds super slow but this story is half over and I'd rather work slower instead of putting out sub par work. Please be patient with me. And thank you to everyone who's been enjoying this story!

 

Kate spends the next three days listening for digital camera shutters and aggressively sniffing Nathan Prescott.

It’s a very bizarre rest of the week.

During these three days, Kate learns two things. One, Nathan has an even better bitch face than Kate with a headache. She actually has to stop Max from taking a picture at one point after a particularly brutal game of tackle table tennis. (“It’s evidence! He has a temper; that’s important to note!” “Max, no.” “You’re ruining my artistic expression!” “Max, stop.”) (During the same game, Nathan actually threw his paddle at Kate and threatened to take her to court. They’re gym teacher said he liked her spirit. It was a good day.)

The second thing is that Nathan smells like nothing. It’s not that he doesn’t smell like anything in particular, it’s that he literally smells like nothing. Whenever Kate tries to identify it, all she comes up with is nothing. She smells the nothing almost as if it were a scent; as if there were a Nathan shaped void that all the other smells surrounded. The things around him have a smell. His jacket smells like cologne. His backpack smells like books. His hair smells like shampoo. But his skin smells like nothing. Nathan smells like nothing and Kate doesn’t think she’d have even noticed if she weren’t looking for it so intently.

While it’s kind of unnerving (everyone has a scent even if it’s just soap), Kate _is_ able to determine that Nathan isn’t stalking her. This means that someone else actually is. By the end of the week, Kate has no idea who they could possibly be. No matter how hard she listens, there aren’t any footsteps behind her and no cameras go off anywhere near her unless they belong to Max. 

Sometimes, when she’s distracted from sniffing Nathan, Kate catches the smallest trace of unsweetened mint. It’s in the hallways and in the parking lot and even around the classrooms but it’s always just so faint, she can’t track it. She can’t even tell if it’s following her or if it’s just there. Sometimes she finds herself looking over her shoulder when she’s alone just to see if there’s someone there.

There never is.

Which is what she tells Chloe when she and Max visit her Friday night.

The room hasn’t changed much in the week since Kate’s been here – it’s still an absolute sty and the scent of cigarette smoke lingers just beneath the surface – but it’s still warm and rebellious and everything she’s come to love about Chloe. Kate has to stop herself from diving onto the bed and burying her face in the pillows. She wonders if Chloe has another scent or if cigarette smoke has permanently attached itself to her skin. Kate finds that she wouldn’t mind either way.

“Okay wait,” Chloe says, tacking the photo of Angry Kate (as she and Max have taken to calling it) onto the clue board. Chloe has a clue board in her bedroom. Kate finds it unreasonably adorable. “If Nathan doesn’t smell like anything, how do you know what he smells like?”

Kate tugs her hair in frustration because this is the third time she’s had to explain this concept. She’s running out of metaphors to throw at Chloe in the hopes that one might stick. “Okay, so you know how black is technically just the absence of color?”

Chloe and Max nod very slowly in unison. Max, for all her detective prowess, also doesn’t quite understand the concept of nothing being something. Maybe it’s just a werewolf thing. Kate needs to talk to Frank again.

“But you can still see the color black. Take that concept but with smell. Nathan doesn’t lack a scent; scent just isn’t there. I can smell him specifically because he emits a scent of nothing. You get it?”

“Not even a little bit,” Chloe says.

Kate almost screams. “Okay think of a black hole. You can’t technically see a black hole, only the effect it has on light around it. Nathan is the black hole of scent. It’s like his body is literally unscented when everyone and everything around him has a scent.”

“I think I understand.”

“Really?”

“No, but your comparison of Nathan to a black hole sucking the light out of everything makes sense.” Chloe flop down beside Kate. “Does it matter? You can technically smell him and that’s really all we need.”

Kate throws a pillow at her; it would have been nice to know that _two hours ago_.

So caught up is she in her pouting, Kate doesn’t notice Chloe retaliate until she has a face full of cigarette scented pillow. She squeaks.

Chloe only laughs and continues her assault. “Not so tough now, are ya? Where’s that werewolf strength, huh?”

Kate covers her face with her arms, laughing too hard to actually think to use her wolfy strength. She shrieks and squirms and somewhere along the line, her hair falls out. It doesn’t seem to matter. She lets the pillow strike her each time, fragrant with cigarette smoke but it’s not unpleasant. Kate thinks she actually rather likes this.

The click of Max’s camera finally stops the attack. Chloe jumps off the bed, still laughing, before Kate can even sit up. “Lemme see,” she says. She grabs for the photo but Max shoves it into her jacket pocket.

“No way,” Max says. “I’ve already lost two photos to you two; this one’s all mine.”

Chloe pouts and Kate has to resist the urge to walk up to her and pinch her cheeks. “Hey, Kate’s the one who stole the last one.”

“Hey!” Kate calls.

Chloe pretends not to hear her. “C’mon, lemme see.”

Max shakes her head, crossing her arms. “Nope.”

“Hmm.” Chloe sends a smirk Kate’s way and fluffs the pillow in her hands. “Well, if it’s going to be like that.”

“Oh, no. Don’t you even think about it.” Max takes a step back.

Kate grabs a pillow and slides as slowly as she can off the bed. She can hear Max’s pulse quicken. Kate licks her lips, skin crawling with excitement.

“Maybe Katie and I are just gonna have to make you show us.” Chloe dives at Max with the pillow and Kate’s right behind her.

There’s screaming and laughing. Max somehow manages to make it to the bed and grab a weapon of her own while Kate and Chloe forget about their alliance entirely. It’s a free for all of feathers and tackles and Kate’s laughing so hard, her ribs ache.

She knows she could win if she tried. She’s faster, stronger, and has better reflexes – it would be easy for her to leap over the bed and away from Chloe’s smacks or take Max’s pillow and hold her down until she gave up the photo. But she doesn’t want to. She’s having fun and she’s laughing – they’re all laughing – and it’s all too soft to hurt even when Max lands directly on top of her. Even though she could end this quickly, come out on top, she doesn’t want to. She’s more than happy to let her two best friends get their hits on her (though she does get in quite a few of her own).

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kate realizes there’s nothing telling her to defeat these two because they’re not her enemies.

They’re her friends and she loves them.

In the end, they all end up lying together on the bed, Kate and Chloe never actually see the photo, and there are feathers _everywhere_.

They lay heads together in comfortable silence, all trying to catch their breaths and slow their heart rates. Chloe calls Kate a cheating werewolf even though they never formally declared a winner and she never actually cheated. Kate snorts and bumps Chloe’s foot with her own.

Silence reigns even after they’ve calmed, no one willing to disturb the peace. Kate almost feels like she could fall asleep, breathing in vanilla and cigarette smoke and something sweeter beneath it all. She doesn’t try to name the sweetness, only savors the feeling for as long as she can.

“I wish Rachel was here,” Chloe says. Her voice is so soft and fragile, Kate worries for a moment she might break if the world becomes too loud. “She would have loved you guys.”

Slowly, Kate takes her hand. She gives a grateful squeeze in return. The sound of shuffling to her left tells Kate that Max had the same idea so Kate takes her hand, too. They fall silent again, hands clasped in a circle.

Chloe’s are rougher and larger than Kate’s. Her hand envelopes Kate’s almost completely. It feels protective in a way.

Kate and Max’s hands are about the same size, fitting perfectly together even at the strange angle. Max rubs her thumb along Kate’s knuckles, soft and soothing.

Kate’s never held hands with anyone who wasn’t related to her. A voice in the back of her mind asks what her mother would have to say about this. Kate knows what her mother would say; she just chooses not to think about it.

Kate had always had a plan. She was going to graduate college, become a kindergarten teacher, find a nice Christian boy she could take home to her parents, and settle down with her two kids. It’s what she’d always wanted. It’s what her parents wanted for her because that’s what it meant to be happy, right?

Lately, Kate’s had to reconsider her plan and not just because of her new set of fangs.

Kate doesn’t really think she’s gay. It’s not that she’s in denial about her attraction to girls; she’s just never actually been attracted to girls. Or to anyone really. She’s never been close enough to someone to feel attracted to them. But now? Now…

Kate doesn’t think about what it means to be… _attracted_ to her two best friends ( _two_ oh, God; her grandmother would have a heart attack if she weren’t already dead). She has lycanthropy to deal with and a missing girl to find. She’ll cross the bridges as they come. For now, she’s content and that’s a luxury life doesn’t give her often anymore.

“We’ll find her,” Kate says.

Both girls squeeze her hands.

Kate’s never letting them go.

* * *

They must fall asleep at some point because when Kate wakes up to a camera flash the next morning, she’s still wearing her day clothes and her hair is a complete mess. She yawns, blinking sleep from her bleary eyes and huh, Max is lying right next to her. So then, who’s taking pictures?

“Well, I’m no Max but I think I do a decent job,” Chloe says. That answers that question then.

Kate sits up, grabbing for the picture before she can even see properly. She doesn’t think her parents even have this many pictures of her and looking at this one, she knows why. She’s sleeping face down with an arm thrown around Max and her skirt riding up to reveal her underwear. She still has her shoes on and her hair is everywhere. She runs a hand through it self-consciously. Her fingers get stuck.

“Nice granny panties by the way.” Chloe sends her a wink, ripping the photo out of her hand before Kate can even think to burn it like the abomination it is. She growls halfheartedly through her blush. Granny panties or not, they happen to be very comfortable thank you very much. This only makes Chloe laugh. “Did you wanna grab a shower?”

Kate tries to run a hand through her hair again (try being the operative word). A shower would be lovely. But then she remembers. “I don’t have any clothes.”

“So? Raid my closet. I’m sure there’s something from the seventeen hundreds in there.”

Kate snorts. “I will have you know Puritanism dates back to the late sixteenth century.”

“The fact that you know that is scarier than your growling, which by the way, makes me wanna squish your face.”

“You want to squish my face?”

“It’s the hamster cheeks.”

“Hamster cheeks?”

“They’re cute, bite me. Except don’t actually. I don’t think my mom would appreciate it if I clawed Sergeant Douche Nozzle’s face off. Hmm, on second thought…”

“Sergeant what?” Kate has to hand it to Chloe; she is nothing if not colorfully linguistic.

“Step dad. Speaking of, I need to inform him and my mom that I slept with two very pretty girls last night.”

“Chloe!”

“Not in that way. Wow Kate, get your mind out of the gutter.”

Kate throws a pillow at her and misses. Chloe snorts she’s laughing so hard. Max somehow sleeps through all of it.

* * *

 In the end, Kate does raid Chloe’s closet and she’s so glad she did. She actually manages to find a blue button down dress and holy shit, what had Chloe been forced to wear _this_ to?

Though it doesn’t actually look like it’s ever been worn, it must be a few years old given the size and smell (mothballs; Kate would have actually preferred cigarettes). It’s shorter than Kate thought it would be, ending just above the knee (which hardly bothers her; it’s longer than her usual skirt) and the three quarter sleeves are a little tight, but it fits well enough and she (unlike Chloe she suspects) actually really likes the style.

Kate throws her newly washed and _conditioned_ hair (she’s not sure who took up using unscented conditioner since she’d been here last but she promises to bake them cupcakes because they are a beautiful, wonderful person who deserves only the nicest things in life) into a bun and doesn’t actually think she looks half bad.

All in all, it’s a pretty great start to the day.

Chloe’s in the kitchen already loading a plate with bacon and pancakes by the Kate makes it downstairs. She arches a brow, blue eyes raking over Kate’s body in an almost predatory way. “You know, when I said find something from the seventeen hundreds, I didn’t mean it literally.”

Kate glances down at the dress. “Hey, it fits. And I think it’s cute.”

“I never said you weren’t.” Chloe hand her an empty plate. “Hungry?”

Kate rolls her eyes, choosing not to think about that comment. “Starving,” she says. She swipes a piece of bacon from Chloe’s plate and shoves it into her mouth even though there’s a mound of it sitting right on the counter. “I feel like I could eat a horse.”

Chloe pokes her stomach, making her squeak. “Or a deer?”

Kate snorts and starts filling her plate. “No wolf jokes until I’ve had at least two pancakes.”

“Ugh, I need to joke if I’m going to make it through this.” Chloe stabs at her food angrily. “Sergeant Assface is in an even worse mood than usual.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that,” Joyce says as the two walk into the dining room.

“And I wish he’d be less of an assface. We can’t always get what we want.” Chloe takes a seat across from her mother.

“Maybe if you didn’t antagonize him so much.”

“Maybe if he would stay the fuck out of my face.”

Kate bites her lip, watching the exchange silently. She could never even think of swearing in front of her mother. It’s actually kind of fascinating, seeing the two openly glaring at each other. Kate has a feeling this is a mild encounter.

Kate and her mom don’t have a bad relationship necessarily. Sure, she’d probably say she’s closer with her dad if she were honest with herself but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love her mother.  They just don’t always see eye to eye. Kate’s always felt pressure from her mother to be sort of perfect – take care of her sisters, get good grades, help around the house, go to church every Sunday, volunteer, have the right friends, always be polite, ‘Don’t slouch, Katie, it’s unladylike’ ‘Goodness, you’re not going out wearing _that_ ; you look like a _whore_.’

Kate’s always been okay with this. She likes going to church, getting good grades makes her proud, she loves her sisters, and she wants to help others in need.

It’s just sometimes her mother looks at her like she’s not good enough. Sometimes her mother frowns and shakes her head when Kate gets a B on her report card or glares at her when she can’t help her sister with her math homework because she has an essay to write or makes her feel guilty when she goes out with friends instead of staying at home and eating with the family. It’s those times when Kate feels her heart sink and stomach knot.

It’s also those times when her father pins her report card to the refrigerator because a B in calculus is something to be proud of. It’s those times when he says he’ll help Lynn with her math homework and bring up tea once they’ve finished. And it’s those times when he smiles and tells her to have a good time with her friends; ‘Call if you need anything, Katie. Love you.’

Kate knows it’s not fair to compare them – they both love her and want what’s best for her. She just wishes her mother were proud of her.

How disappointed would her mother be if she knew her daughter were a fucking werewolf? Not to mention the fact that she apparently likes girls.

Kate sighs. She wonders if Chloe ever told her mother about her relationship with Rachel. Looking between the two exchanging eye rolls and sharp words, Kate think Joyce probably knew even if Chloe didn’t say. Joyce seems to know Chloe better than Kate’s mother could ever know her daughters.

“Hey,” Chloe’s voice brings her back to the present. “You gonna sit down or just stand there looking wistful?”

Kate snorts good-naturedly and takes the seat next to Chloe. Joyce gives her a once over that makes Kate feel kind of like she’s under examination. “You’re not even going to introduce us?” she says to Chloe.

“Why? So you can harass her on a first name basis?”

“Chloe!”

Kate shakes her head, kicking said girl under the table. “My name’s Kate. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Price.”

“Glad to see at least Chloe’s friends have manners.” She shoots her daughter a pointed look. Chloe flips her off. “It’s Madsen, actually, but please, call me Joyce.”

Kate’s smile falters just slightly. Madsen. The name is familiar but Kate doesn’t know why.

Max joins them a minute later, wearing clothes that look like they belong to Chloe but smell like they belong to Rachel. She and Joyce talk like old friends while Chloe all but sulks. Kate places a hand on her knee. She knows exactly how Chloe feels.

Then a man walks in from the garage and ruins the carefully constructed peace. Chloe tenses almost instantly while Max frowns. The scent of menthol like cool, unsweetened mint hits Kate like a bus. Holy shit, holy _shit_.

Now she knows why the name seemed so familiar. David Madsen, head of security at Blackwell and apparently the one who’s been _stalking_ her, glares at Kate from not ten feet away.

Great.

The sudden tension seems to surprise Joyce who glances between David and the three girls. “Kate, this is my husband, David,” she says hesitantly. “David, this is-“

“Kate Marsh,” he cuts her off. “She goes to school at Blackwell.”

Kate freezes because now he’s talking to her and she really isn’t sure what to say. ‘Hey Mr. Madsen. Good to see you. Been stalking anyone else in the woods lately?’

Not the best idea.

Kate swallows thickly. “Um, hi Mr. Madsen.”

Silence reigns, the tension in the room palpable. Kate feels her throat vibrate and knows she’s growling. David’s frown deepens.

Suddenly, Joyce stands and grabs David’s hand. “Glad you could join us. Food’s in the kitchen.” She leads him away before he even has the chance to look surprised.

Max puts a hand on Kate’s back almost as soon as they’re out of the room. “Kate, you okay? You look seriously freaked.”

“And hey, put those claws away,” Chloe says, patting Kate’s hand.

Kate releases Chloe’s knee. She flexes her fingers and indeed, her nails have grown into very long, very sharp claws. “Sorry,” she says, hiding her hand under the table.

“Kate, what’s going on?” Max whispers beside her.

Kate glances towards the kitchen. She can hear Joyce and David speaking in hushed voices in the hallway. They won’t be able to hear her from in there. “Do you remember how someone was following me?”

Max nods while Chloe’s eyes widen. “No way,” she says. “Him?”

“Wait, Mr. Madsen’s been taking pictures of you?” Max says. “How do you know?”

“He smells like menthol,” Kate says. “So did the guy in the woods.”

“That fucking creep.” Chloe glares in his general direction. “That’s why he keeps getting in my fucking business.”

“You’re positive it’s him?” Max asks.

“Absolutely,” Kate says. “Do you think we should tell Joyce?”

Max shakes her head. “I don’t think she would believe us without proof.”

“She wouldn’t,” Chloe says. “We’ll have to get proof.”

“How?” Kate asks.

“He keeps most of his shit in the garage; maybe there’s something in there. We’ll wait until tonight and then go snooping after he falls asleep.”

Kate and Max don’t have time to protest as David and Joyce choose that moment to walk back into the dining room. The five of them eat in awkward silence leaving Kate to wonder what exactly she’s gotten herself into.

* * *

Sneaking around a friend’s house in the dark at night is, in a word, creepy.

In a few more words, it makes Kate really, very anxious. She’s not a horror movie buff by anyone’s standards but she’s seen enough to know that generally this is how they start. Or at least this happens at some point, she’s honestly not sure.

Either way, three girls sneaking around a house in the dark is definitely a horror film cliché. Kate would say all they’re missing is the ghost but they do have a werewolf so really a ghost might just be overkill.

Kate emphatically does not think about being killed.

In any case, Kate has to keep her ears and nose peeled in case David wakes up and suddenly decides he wants a midnight snack. If she also happens to find any signs of a haunting, well, that’s all for the better, isn’t it?

This is what she’s currently doing as Chloe tries to get the garage door open. “Shit, that fuck locked the fucking door?” Chloe hisses more to herself than to the other two girls standing next to her. “How fucking paranoid can you be?”

To be fair, they _are_ trying to get into the garage specifically to look through his things. Kate doesn’t say that, though. She really doubts Chloe will appreciate the observation. 

“You’ve got a remote, though. We could go outside and open that door,” Max suggests.

Chloe shakes her head. “There’s no way he won’t hear that. Maybe I could try to pick the lock?”

“You know how to pick locks?”

“I know enough.”

Max scrubs her face with her palm. Chloe pouts. Kate almost doesn’t want to interrupt the moment.

But alas, her desire to not be down here anymore is stronger than her urge to watch Max and Chloe banter. “Let me try.” She walks past Chloe to examine the locked doorknob. “Does your house have an alarm system?”

Chloe arches a brow. “It does but I can turn it off.”

Kate nods so Chloe does just that. Almost as soon as she hears the confirmation beep, Kate turns and back kicks the door wide open. There’s a hairline split in the doorframe but hey, maybe David won’t notice.

A girl can dream.

“That’s one way to do it,” Max says on her way in. Chloe’s footsteps sound from the hallway so Kate follows Max.

The garage is dark and uninviting and so much unlike the rest of the house, Kate wouldn’t even think they were connected had she not walked through the door herself. It smells of oil and metal and menthol. Kate shutters. She’s really beginning to hate mint.

Max uses her phone as a flashlight, venturing further into the room. Kate actually isn’t having any trouble seeing and that’s pretty nice. She wonders how far these werewolf powers really go. “What are we even looking for?” Max says mostly to herself.

“Check the computer first,” Chloe says out of fucking _nowhere_ and Kate bites her tongue to hard it bleeds just to hold in a scream.

Kate takes a deep breath of cigarette as Chloe walks by. _Chill, Kate_ , she tells herself. _What’s the worst that’s going to happen?_

Well, there’s always the chance that David will find them. He’d probably start yelling at them and call the police and then they’d tell Kate’s parents about her breaking and entering (kind of; she did break the door to get in here) and then her mom would glare at her and tell her ‘I’ll pray for you’ and her dad would shake his head and say ‘Katie, I’m so disappointed’ and then they’d leave her in prison! Kate can’t go to prison! Felons don’t get to be kindergarten teachers and what would happen during the full moons? She doubt they’d just let her out. Oh, God what if she kills her cellmate? They’d have to send her to solitary then. There’s no special werewolf jails, are there?

Are there?

Kate shakes the thoughts from her head. She’s being _ridiculous_.

Of course, there’s also the chance that David already knows she’s a werewolf and already has a cell prepared for her. Or he could just shoot her with one of his many, many, many rifles.

Kate swallows.

Werewolf prison might not be so bad.

“You coming?” Chloe hisses and this time Kate does scream just a little.

Where’s a ghost when you need one?

“Sorry,” Kate murmurs back.

She jogs over to Max and Chloe who stand hunched over a locked laptop. “Don’t suppose you’d know the password, huh?” Max asks.

“Not a fucking clue.” Chloe looks at the computer for a few moments. “It might be written down somewhere, though. We should check around.”

With that, the three part.

Kate’s not really sure what they’re even looking for. Davis Madsen doesn’t really strike her as the type of guy to write his password down but she supposes there’s no harm in looking.

Kate’s eyes travel to the gun case perched on the wall.

Okay, so maybe there could be some harm.

Kate forces herself to turn away from the display case (seriously, though, who needs so many fucking guns?). She has snooping to do after all. Of course, it might help if she actually knew where to start. She’s never actually snooped before, no matter what her sisters say.

She takes a quick look around. There doesn’t seem to be anything on the table but above, on top of a cabinet, Kate can see what looks to be a manila folder. She shrugs to herself. _It’s as good a place to start as any_.

Slowly, Kate climbs onto the tabletop with grace she knows she didn’t possess a week ago. It’s a little wobbly but it holds her weight long enough for her to grab the folder and climb back down. This doesn’t stop her from almost falling over when she actually opens the file.

There are… pictures of her – her in the woods, her in the courtyard, her in the hallways, her in the _dorms_ what the fuck? She knew he’d taken at least one picture of her but there have to be at least a dozen photos here, all of her. The earliest one is of her walking through the courtyard with Chloe wearing the borrowed ripped jeans and low cut t-shirt. Fuck, that must be from last Saturday. How had David managed to take twelve fucking pictures of her without her noticing in less than _six days_?

_He’s dedicated, I’ll give him that_ , Kate thinks scornfully. “Guys,” she hisses. “Guys, you have to see this.”

The two other girls promptly abandon their own apparently fruitless searches.

“Holy fucking shit,” Chloe whispers even before she sees the photos. “That total fucking creep. There’s gotta ten fucking picture here.”

“Twelve, I think,” Kate says.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

As they begin to look through the photos, it becomes very evident that Kate isn’t kidding.

“This is so fucked up,” Max says. She takes pictures of the file as they go. The more Kate looks at the photos, the more she wants to vomit. There’s one of her outside church talking to Mr. Jefferson, one of her, Max, and Chloe leaving the diner, one of her in the _junkyard_. Those are just the ones from Sunday.

There’s one of her leaving the girls’ dormitories with Max dated from Monday. The others from that day seem to be her leaving Mr. Jefferson’s class without Max, her run in with Nathan, and then her, Max, and Chloe by Chloe’s car. 

The most recent photo is of her in the woods and that one’s from Tuesday when she actually noticed. The other from that day is of her waiting outside Mr. Jefferson’s classroom for Max. He’d managed to take ten fucking pictures of her in _four fucking days_?

This is just too crazy.

The last two photos aren’t of her. One is of the blood stain in the junkyard, which means he must have gone back or stayed after they left Sunday. Either way, he found a fucking blood stain and probably connected the three of them with it. Shit, no wonder he’s been so suspicious.

The last photo is actually kind of baffling – four long scratches imprinted into what looks to be a brick wall. They’re pretty easy to identify as werewolf claw marks at least to Kate. But, the thing is she doesn’t remember leaving them.

Does that mean someone else did?

Footsteps sound from upstairs. Kate snaps her attention from the folder to the sound. Where is it? Where’s it going?

“Kate? What’s-“

“Shh!” she cuts Max off.

Seconds pass. No one moves; no one even breathes.

Silence.

Then the footsteps echo on the stairs and shit, they need to leave, _now_.

“We need to go,” Kate whispers.

They don’t pause or hesitate for a moment. Chloe wordlessly replaces the folder back on top of the cabinet while Max turns the flashlight off on her phone. They follow Kate through the door, closing it silently behind them, just as the steps reach the bottom of the staircase.

They duck behind the couch and shit, they’re as good as trapped. Kate suddenly really fucking hates the open layout of the house. Okay, think. They need to go around David but which way is he going? Kate waits and listens; she can barely hear anything over the sound of her own pulse.

The footsteps click as they touch the linoleum floors in the kitchen.

Kate dashes to the hall between the kitchen and staircase, Max and Chloe following close behind. They pause, crouching just before the kitchen door. _Almost there, we’re almost there_.

He’s close. Kate can smell menthol. She dares not glance into the kitchen.

Silence.

Then more footsteps and the sound of a sliding door being opened.

Kate breaks for the stairs. She makes it almost to the top, the others close behind, when David calls, “Who’s there?”

Shit!

Chloe stops three steps from the bottom and turns. “Go!” she hisses.

Kate doesn’t need to be told twice. She and Max wait at the top while Chloe makes a show of walking down the last three steps. “Chill, Serg, it’s just me,” she says.

“Chloe? What are you doing up?” David demands rather than asks.

“Getting juice? Is that against the law?”

Kate finds herself rather impressed. Chloe is a much better liar than she could ever hope to be.

David doesn’t say anything for a moment. Behind her, Kate can feel Max holding her breath. She grabs Max’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

Then David says, “No, I guess not. Sorry.” and Kate almost sags with relief. She tugs Max the rest of the way to Chloe’s room before David even leaves the kitchen.

Honestly, Kate thinks she would have preferred ghosts.

* * *

“ _Nine_?” Kate says astonished.

That’s how many potential passwords Chloe and Max found before she interrupted them. She guesses their search wasn’t so fruitless after all.

“Yeah,” Chloe says through a yawn.

The three still haven’t gone to sleep, too busy brainstorming to notice the sun coming up. That’s fine really. Kate’s much too wired to go to sleep now and church is a lost cause really. One Sunday with a hundred senior citizens and their perfume and sweat had really been enough for a lifetime. She does resolve to spend at least a little time in her room with her bible, though, even if that means giving a private sermon to Chloe and Max.

Chloe blanches when she hears the suggestion. This only strengthens Kate’s resolve.

Now back in Chloe’s room, Max hovers over the clue board. So far, it mostly consists of pictures – of the bloodstain in the junkyard, of Nathan looking at Kate in science lab, and the pictures of the pictures in David’s folder. There’s also a picture of Nathan and of David that she had no idea Max had taken. (“Max, how did you even take those?” “I have my ways.” Incidentally, Max looks pretty cute when she smirks.)

“And those are only possibilities,” Max says. She tacks up a page of her journal with all nine possible passwords written on it. “They could all be wrong for all we know.”

“Not that we can really check,” Chloe says. “The computer locks after three failed attempts. If we put in two wrong ones in a row, we have to wait for Sergeant Douche to put in the right one next time he uses it. This could take fucking days and that’s all assuming he doesn’t change it.”

Days? That’s even assuming he uses his laptop every day. This could take _weeks_.

Chloe heaves a sigh. It seems that thought occurred to her, too. “Look, I know I’m the one who suggested snooping through his shit but this isn’t helping us find Rachel.”

“It’s all we’ve got,” Max says. “He has pictures of claw marks that Kate didn’t leave. David might know who did.”

“Or we could just be wasting time. What if Rachel left those marks?”

“We don’t even know where this picture was taken.”

“Probably Blackwell,” Kate chimes in. “Rachel might have left them if she was on campus last week. Either way, it’s worth checking out.”

Max bites her lip. “I still don’t think getting a look at that laptop is a bad idea.”

“Okay fine,” Chloe says. “You two find where that picture was taken and in the meantime, I’ll try getting onto that laptop. It’s not like we know where the fuck else to look I guess.”

“It’s still better than nothing.” Max drapes a sheet over the board and shoves it behind Chloe’s bed with Kate’s help. The last thing they need is David seeing this.

“I’m just scared we won’t find her in time.” Chloe shuffles over to the bed, feet dragging as if walking is suddenly too much effort. Kate’s never seen her so vulnerable.

“We’ll find her,” Max says with conviction Kate doesn’t think she could manage. “We’ll bring her home.”

More than ever, Kate really hopes they can.

* * *

“It was never supposed to be like this,” he says so softly she almost doesn’t hear him.

She hates that voice.

She hates when he says things like that.

She hates being lied to.

“I’m truly sorry. I know that’s not very comforting right now but I am, sincerely.”

She hates, hates, _hates_ him.

She used to get angry, furious. She used to be so full of rage, so full of _hatred_. She wanted him dead, wanted to kill him, tear him apart, rip out his throat, watch him choke on his own _blood_. She could feel it, focus on it. It made her _stronger_ – it made her want to live.

Hatred remains.

Mostly she’s just tired.

“If you had just stayed here like I asked. If you had just done what I said, the both of you, it would have been _fine_.”

Once she would have spat “fuck you”.

Now she can’t even swallow.

Metal clangs. She almost can’t hear it. It feels like she’s underwater.

She’s drowning.

She doesn’t want to fight anymore. She hasn’t tasted air in days. She’s drowning, drowning, drowning and she’s too tired to break through the surface anymore.

She’s going to drown.

She’s going to die.

She wonders how long it will take. A few more weeks? Days? Hours?

He’s doing something. Her eyes are too blurry but she knows.

She used to grit her teeth – she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her scream.

Then she used to plead. Please, don’t. Stop. It hurts, it hurts _, it hurts_.

Now she can barely feel it. Her nerves are too shot, synapses too damaged to signal.

It doesn’t hurt anymore.

She’s too tired.

Hatred remains.

But she stopped fighting long ago.

She just wants to go home.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER, MAN. THIS CHAPTER.   
> Sorry I've been gone for like 30 years or something. After writing this chapter 3 times and hating everything I put down, I wasn't honestly sure if I'd be able to finish in any kind of satisfactory way. Hopefully the wait was worth it.   
> I'd like to say the rest won't take as long. I'm thinking there will only be 4-ish more chapters. Maybe 5 or 4 plus an epilogue thing. Either way, we're more than halfway done and I do have a direction in mind so yay. Thanks you everyone who's been reading and commenting and leaving kudos!! You all really keep me going!

Kate hears voices before she opens her eyes. They’re unclear, as if somewhere in a faraway dream, but she knows immediately who they belong to. Kate burrows further into the pile of pillows and blankets, soft in a way only the hazy mist of half sleep can create. They smell like vanilla and cigarettes and they’re still warm from the bodies that had once lain here not so long ago.

Kate could get used to waking up like this.

“Couldn’t sleep,” is the first thing her cloudy mind understands. Chloe’s voice is a soft whisper, as if she doesn’t want words to escape her lips.

The room is quiet for a moment. With her eyes closed, Kate can hear the shuffling of feet followed by the movement of papers.

“She looks so pretty,” Max says. They must be looking at something and Kate’s pretty sure she knows what – or who.

“She was,” Chloe says. “She was the most beautiful person I ever met.” She pauses. Silence falls over the room like a veil. No one speaks for what feels like a long time. Even when she strains her ears, Kate can’t hear anything above the silence. Not pans scraping in the kitchen or water running in the bathroom or even the birds outside register to Kate’s ears. There’s only quiet.

Then Chloe says, “I miss her, Max. I miss her so much,” and any doubts about who she’s talking about leave Kate’s mind.

“We’ll find her,” Max says but she doesn’t sound like she means it.

“What if we can’t though?”

Silence.

Kate can hear someone fidget, just the soft scratching of nails on skin.

“Rachel saved my life,” Chloe says. “After my dad died and you left, everything just went to shit. She was the only thing I had and now I keep thinking, what if she’s already gone? She can’t be gone, Max.” Her voice cracks near the end. Kate strains her ears and swears she hears Chloe swallow thickly – painfully.

She’s crying.

Suddenly, Kate has the urge to jump out of the bed and run to her – to throw her arms around her and tell her it’ll be okay. They’ll find Rachel, they’ll bring her home, and Chloe will never be alone again. And even if they can’t find Rachel, Kate would never abandon Chloe. She’d never let anyone hurt Chloe.

Kate wants to say all of it but she doesn’t. She can’t.

So, she waits. She listens.

Max doesn’t say anything either. Maybe she can’t.

Kate’s heart sinks. For the first time, it hits her what it means for Rachel to be gone. She’d known it was a possibility, the most likely one even, but she never knew what it would really mean. For Chloe, losing someone like Rachel isn’t like when Kate’s nana died. It doesn’t just mean no more sleepovers or homemade fudge or lavender perfume. It’s not like losing a friend or a sister or even a part of yourself. For Chloe, losing Rachel means losing all of that for possibly the third time and the only one who made it all okay.

What words can make that any better?

Kate can’t say anything. Max can’t say anything.

Nothing can make this better.

Chloe keeps crying and Max stays silent. Kate makes a show of shuffling around the bed and sitting up. Whether because she realizes she’s been eavesdropping or because she can’t stand to hear Chloe crying anymore, she’s not sure. Either way, the two girls turn to her startled. Chloe wipes her face and forces a smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

Kate yawns even though she doesn’t really feel the need. “What time is it?”

“Time to fucking crash; I feel like I haven’t slept in a year.” Chloe stretches and dives at the bed in a way that’s much too energetic to be genuine. Her brave face is pretty easy to see through but Kate doesn’t point it out.

Chloe turns her back to the Kate, effectively shutting her out along with the rest of the waking world.

On the other side of the room, Max bites her lip. She watches Chloe for a few moments.

Again, Kate wants to say something, anything to make this better but she can’t. The words don’t exist.

After a while, Max crawls into bed, too. “Sorry,” she says. “For waking you. Forgot about the werewolf super hearing.”

Kate gives her a small smile and shakes her head. “No worries.”

Max nods and lies down, back to Kate.

Silence.

Eventually, Max and Chloe both fall asleep, leaving Kate alone with the quiet. The bed that felt so warm and soft just a few moments ago feels so cold now. Even with her two best friends lying beside her, Kate feels alone.

Is this what Chloe feels like without Rachel?

She hopes not.

* * *

Kate sits on the edge of the folding chair, a pent up coil of nervous energy. Her heel bounces much to Frank’s annoyance. He’s tense and scowling and Kate knows that he can feel it, too. 

Even with the October sun barely peeking over the Two Whales Diner to shine into the parking lot currently playing host to Frank’s RV, the pull of the full moon is strong. It’s like a scratching beneath her skin; a wild animal begging to be let free.

Kate’s senses are sharp, more than they’ve been in these past three weeks. She can smell coffee and bacon and gasoline and cologne that she knows doesn’t belong to Frank. Sometimes her nails lengthen into claws without her noticing. Other times her hair stands up and her spine tingles, as if her body knows something her mind can’t seem to comprehend. She feels like she’s being watched but David hasn’t been keeping tabs on her since she’d noticed him. No, this is something else. She just can’t figure out what.

Frank lets out a low, throaty growl, directing his glare at Kate’s tapping foot. She flushes sheepishly and forces herself to stop. “Sorry,” she says. “I’m a little nervous.”

Frank doesn’t answer right away. He leans back in his chair and Kate can’t decide whether he’s trying to appear nonchalant for her sake or for his own. “Look,” he says. “Just stick to the woods and away from people. Worst case, you kill a deer.”

Kate squeaks, eyes widening. She hadn’t even thought about _that_. “Can’t you run with me?” she pleads. “Wolves live in packs, don’t they? Shouldn’t we stick together?”

“We’re not wolves,” Frank grumbles, shaking his head. “Not really. ‘sides, if I run with ya, I’ll kill ya.”

“How do you know if you’ve never run with anyone?”

“I just know, all right?”

“But can’t you just-“

“No,” he grunts, firm and harsher than strictly necessary.

Kate sighs and tries her best not to pout. She knows a lost cause when she sees it.

The last three weeks have put her on edge in a way the moon probably never will. Three weeks of no leads and Chloe making herself sparser than usual set the mood for all her interactions with Max – when she _does_ see Max.

They’re both awkward, trying to avoid the subject with such noticeable caution. Ironically enough, this only serves to make it that much more difficult to ignore.

Neither girl wants to say that Rachel might be dead but it’s becoming an increasingly likely scenario.

Pompidou sets his head in Kate’s lap and whines. She scratches behind his ear. She thinks he must be able to feel this tension, too.

“Look, I ain’t one to give out pep talks so when I say this, it’s cause I mean it so you better fuckin’ listen.” Frank’s face scrunches almost comically with disgust, like he’s questioning every choice he’s made up until this point. “You’ll be fine,” he finally spits out. “Stay away from people and you’ll be fine.”

Kate smiles despite Frank’s apparent disdain for all humanity at the moment. “Thanks,” she says.

“Yeah, whatever.”

* * *

Kate’s got some time before the 10:30 bus back to Blackwell, so she nurses a coffee in the diner while she waits. The caffeine only serves to make her more jittery than she had been already but the warmth spreading through her chest helps a little. 

According to her watch, it’s already 10:10 when Joyce sits down across from her. “Hey, kiddo,” she says. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts lately.”

“Hey, Mrs. Madsen.” Kate hopes her smile is at least a little genuine. “Just been um, busy. With school and stuff.”

Joyce arches a brow, clearly unconvinced. “I see,” she says slowly, like she’s sizing Kate up. Then she sighs, façade falling away to reveal a worried frown and a creased brow. “Ah, fuck it. I’ve never been good at this sort of stuff anyway.”

“Mrs. Madsen?”

“Call me Joyce.” It’s more of a reflexive answer from the sound of it. Kate wonders if she’s ever had to correct Max like this. “Kate, why are you hanging around a guy like Frank?”

Kate blinks.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Uh,” is all Kate manages to say as her brain scrambles furiously to find a way out of here. “I’m not really hanging around him. I mean, I was outside with him but we don’t hang out, hang out, you know? He’s just a friend. Not even a friend. A friend of a friend. Not even that, just a friend of a friend of a friend. So, you see, there’s really no reason to be worried because I don’t hang around him or even make a point of talking to him. I just-”

Joyce takes pity on her, thank God. “Slow your roll, there,” she says. ”It’s just, my motherly instincts tell me there’s something going on there. More than you’re letting on at least.” Joyce pats the top of Kate’s hand, gently yet firmly. It’s quite… motherly. It’s nice, Kate thinks. “Look, Kate you seem like a nice girl and Frank? He’s not nice. You can see why I’d be worried, right?”

Kate nods, suddenly unable to meet Joyce’s eyes. She stares at her coffee instead. “Frank’s just a friend of this girl who went to my school. I was asking him about her.”

“By any chance,” Joyce says. “Is this girl Rachel Amber?”

Kate nods. “I was curious after seeing all the posters I guess.” It’s not a total lie but it’s not the truth either. Kate’s stomach churns with guilt and unease.

“You must really want to find her if you’re willing to talk to the local drug dealer,” Joyce says and whoa wait a minute, _drug dealer_?

Joyce’s ensuing laughter tells Kate all she needs to know about her facial expression (horrified; doing drugs is one thing but she’s seen enough 48 Hours to know that dealers are something entirely different). “Well, he doesn’t deal much anymore from what I hear,” Joyce says.

“Why not?” Kate asks before she realizes it’s maybe not the best thing to ask your friend’s _mother_ of all people.

Joyce just shrugs, probably only judging Kate a little. “Don’t know, really. Stopped right around the time Rachel disappeared, maybe a month or two before?”

_Right around when he got bit then_ , Kate’s mind supplies. It would make sense.

“Kate, I wanna ask you something and I want you to answer me honestly.”

Kate nods, thumbing her coffee mug. “Sure.”

“Chloe hasn’t gotten in completely over her head, has she?”

Kate opens her mouth and then closes it. What?

Joyce sighs heavily. “I know she’s looking for Rachel and I don’t blame her, I really don’t. But I thought Rachel was a nice girl, too, until she turned out to be a…” She cuts herself off. She’s quiet for a while. Kate doesn’t dare interrupt. “Until she turned out not to be,” she finally finishes. “You seem like a nice girl, too, so just, take care of her, will you? I can’t let her get hurt like that again.”

Kate’s not entirely sure whether Joyce is talking about Rachel or Max or William or all of them. She only nods. “I promise,” she says. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt Chloe.”

“ _Anyone_ isn’t really who I’m worried about.” Joyce says it so quietly, Kate’s pretty sure she isn’t supposed to hear it. But she does and she in that moment, she realizes what Joyce knows.

Oh no.

Oh _shit_.

“You ought to get back to class,” Joyce says, standing. “And don’t put anymore marks in my table, ya hear?”

* * *

Kate misses the bus and has to run all the way back to school (which actually takes less time than the bus would have – a fact Kate really does not want to think about). Nonetheless, she makes it back in time for physical education, which is good. Then she remembers who exactly is in her class, which is bad. 

Max puts a hand on Kate’s back as they walk out of the locker room. “You okay?”

Kate’s first reaction is, no, she’s really not okay. The run did little to relieve her nervous energy and somehow, Nathan looks even more pissed than usual. _And_ they’re playing dodge ball.

She sighs. This is going to be a long class.

Still, she manages to give Max a small smile. Her conversation with Joyce can wait until after school. “Just uh, you know,” she says. “The uh. “ Her voice drops to a whisper. “The moon.”

Kate feels someone tense beside her but when she looks, there’s no one.

Max follows her gaze, frowning. “Uh, will you be okay?”

Kate turns to look at Max. “I think so. Just.” She pauses. “I’ll tell you after class, okay?”

Max bites her lip. Her hand is warm and her eyes are sad and that’s all it takes for Kate’s heart to turn to complete mush.

Luckily, she doesn’t have time to spew her usual word vomit all over Max. They’re forced to separate when their teacher places them on different teams because clearly this day wasn’t bad enough.

The universe then reminds Kate that things could always be worse as their teacher has the brilliant idea to place Nathan Prescott _on_ her team.

This is going to be a really, really long class.

* * *

Kate all but launches herself at the balls lined up in the middle of the auditorium as soon as the whistle blows. She twists left and hurls one at Victoria as hard as she can, hitting the other girl square in the back (Max cheers; it’s a pretty magical moment). 

The gym erupts into a very mild, well controlled chaos as future scientists and artists lob squishy foam balls at each other while trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Kate darts between teammates and opponents, having barely enough time to distinguish between yellow and red jersey before throwing her ammunition.

Less than two minutes in, both sides have dwindled down to little more than half their class. Their teacher starts sending students back in at random to keep the game going but each time one student enters, two are forced out.

Kate pays them no mind. She runs and jumps and weaves her way around the battlefield and no one even gets close to touching her. Heart racing, blood pumping, her hair stick to her face and she remembers why she _loves_ this feeling. The attention, the adrenaline, Max cheering from the sidelines to Victoria’s dismay (“She’s not even on your team!”) The freedom to move and never tire, to strike and never injure, to hunt and compete, is absolutely _thrilling_.

Something soft hits her back. It’s innocent, it can’t hurt her, but she still turns on her heel, claws out, teeth bared. She’s under attack; someone’s going to hurt her. Someone’s going to _kill_ her unless she kills them first.

A low snarl forms in the back of her throat. Words on repeat, thoughts she shouldn’t have, growling in her ear. Bite, tear, kill. She’ll kill them, _she’ll kill them_.

“Marsh, you’re out!”

Their teacher’s voice brings Kate back to reality. She drops the ball as if it’s on fire. In front of her stands Nathan looking… pensive? Scared? She doesn’t know and she doesn’t care; she just needs to leave, right now.

She crosses her arms over her chest to hide her claws. She shuts her eyes, praying to God that they aren’t glowing or maybe they never were, she can’t tell.

“Marsh, get off the field!” their teacher calls. “Marsh?”

“Kate, are you all right?”

That’s right. Max is here.

Kate takes a deep breath through her nose, sifting through the sweat and perfume and cologne. That familiar sweetness finds its way to her, grounding her. Claws recede; teeth dull; thoughts fade away like a distant memory.

When she opens her eyes, Kate’s greeted by the worried looks of her fellow classmates. Kate swallows the growl threatening to bubble up. “I,” she starts. “I’m fine, j-just not feeling well.”

Their teacher gestures to the girl’s locker room. “Why don’t you go lie down.”

Kate doesn’t need to be told twice. She strides out of the auditorium as quickly as her legs will take her, one very specific pair of eyes burning a hole through her back.

* * *

Kate waits outside the locker room while the other girls change and actually has to grab Max when she bolts out of the room, calling “Kate!” in the sweetest, most concerned voice. If Kate weren’t so stressed at the moment, she might have died. 

“Are you all right?” Max says, throwing her arms around Kate before she can respond.

Kate doesn’t mind. She buries her face in Max’s shoulder, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She breathes deeply the scent of vanilla and sweat and a thousand other thing that all fade into obscurity. Max shivers just slightly so Kate pulls away. “I’m all right,” she says. “Now. But we need to talk about some things.”

“Yeah, we do,” Max says. “What the hell happened back there? You looked like you were going to rip Nathan’s head off.”

Kate chews on her lip so hard she tastes blood. She _was_ going to, she’d _wanted_ to. “I think it’s the moon? I don’t know, things have been getting worse lately. It feels like there’s something crawling around inside me and my head hurts and I’m tense and paranoid and I don’t know why. And I think Nathan saw something and Joyce definitely knows something-“

“Whoa, slow down,” Max says. Kate hadn’t realized she’d been shaking until Max grabs her shoulders and stills them. “What do you mean Joyce knows something?”

“I saw her at the diner today when I went to visit Frank,” Kate says.

“You went to visit Frank _alone_?”

Kate toes at the floor. “I didn’t want to bother you with this and it’s not like I have a phone anymore so I couldn’t call Chloe either.”

Max crosses her arms, frown a little mad, a little sad, and a lot disappointed. “What do you mean you didn’t want to bother me? We’re in this together, you know.”

“That’s just it, though!” Kate tugs at her hair in frustration. Then Max looks a lot more sad and Kate instantly regrets everything. “I’m sorry, I just…”

She’s saved by a hoard of girls piling out of the locker room all at once. Max grabs her hand and pulls her down the hall. “We should talk about this somewhere private,” she says.

That’s probably the best thing anyone’s said to Kate all day.

* * *

They skip lunch and their last two classes in favor of sitting on the floor of Kate’s room. Alice joins them, immediately draping herself over Kate’s outstretched legs. 

Kate scratches Alice’s head with her index finger. “Okay, bun, you get to be in charge today,” she says.

Max smiles, giving the rabbit a small pat. “Is that why she does that?” she asks.

“I think so,” Kate says. “It’s some kind of dominance thing.”

“Good to know we’re in very capable paws.”

“Better than mine.”

Max giggles at that and Kate has to admit, it’s nice to hang out like this again.

“I’m sorry,” Kate says. “For earlier. I didn’t mean to yell and I didn’t want to exclude you. Or Chloe. It’s just the werewolf stuff is still so scary and it was just easier to go by myself.”

Max lies on the floor beside Kate, head pressed against her thigh. Kate runs her fingers through Max’s hair. “I’m just worried,” she says. “This stuff is pretty scary for me, too. That’s why I think we should stick together.”

“That’s kind of the thing, though, isn’t it?” Kate says. “It’s scary and dangerous. You shouldn’t just throw yourself into it.”

“ _You_ are.”

“I don’t have much of a choice. And at least I have fangs and claws and a healing factor rivaling Wolverine.”

“Have you been watching X-Men without me?”

Kate shrugs. “What can I say? I love Hugh Jackman.”

Max shakes her head, hair tickling Kate’s leg. “You can’t expect me to let you do this by yourself. What would you do if you were in my position?”

Kate knows she should fight harder, force Max _and_ Chloe to stay as far away from this werewolf shit as humanly possible but she just can’t. The past three weeks have been torture and the full moon is only getting closer and she needs them and she hates herself for it. But she does need them. If Max hadn’t been there today, she would have killed someone. Maybe everyone.

Kate shudders. Max takes her hand and thumbs her palm. She really, really needs this.

“So,” Max starts hesitantly. “What does Joyce have to do with any of this?”

“She knows about me, I think,” Kate says. “I don’t know what or how much but I think she knows I’m a werewolf.”

“How could she possibly know that?”

 Kate shrugs. “How should I know?”

Max’s phone buzzes and she sits up to check it. Kate immediately misses her warmth. “I guess we can ask Chloe when she gets here.”

‘When she gets here’? Max can’t mean… “Oh, no. No, no, no, you two are not coming with me,” Kate says firmly.

“But-“

“Max, no.”  Kate sighs, forcing her voice to soften. “You can’t come with me. I could kill you, _both_ of you.”

“Kate, we can’t just let you do this alone.”

“This isn’t like hanging out in a junkyard after dark, Max!” Kate yells loud enough for Alice to jump off her legs and scurry under the bed in fear. “This is me turning into a giant fucking wolf with fangs and claws and you can’t defend yourself from that! I’d kill you, Max!”

Max recoils, eyes wide and Kate thinks, _Good, this is good_. She needs to stay away at least tonight. It’s better for them – for Max and Chloe – if they stay away.

Then Max’s lips set in a hard line and she looks angry of all things. “Okay, fine,” she says, voice cold and firm and hot with rage. “Fine, you wanna run around the woods alone with at least two other werewolves out there, maybe more? Fine! Me and Chloe will just leave you alone.”

Kate bites her lip. She _hates_ this but it’s better.

“After the sun sets,” Max finishes and wait what. “Come on, Chloe’s waiting and you know how she gets when you make her waste gas. If we get going now, we can make it to the forest before dark with plenty of extra time. Chop, chop, time’s a’wastin’.”

_What_?

 Max bolts from the room before Kate’s brain can catch up. “Max?” she calls but that little sneak pretends not to hear her. “Max, that’s not what I meant!”

Thoroughly frazzled, Kate spends at least five minutes trying to get Alice out from underneath the bed (she actually has to lift the whole thing up until Alice finally realizes she can’t hide anymore and Kate can catch her). By the time she deposits the rabbit back in her cage, Max is long gone and Kate can hear Chloe incessantly honking her horn and really, what other choice does Kate have but to follow?

* * *

Victoria stops her two feet from the dorm exit because the universe is never satisfied and clearly requires a blood sacrifice (apparently Kate’s) to chill the fuck out. 

Kate growls, feeling her teeth sharpen in her mouth. She clenches her fists and forces herself not to rip Victoria’s throat out at first sight. She thinks, for a moment, that she should be more concerned about how violent her thoughts have been lately but the sun is setting in a few hours and she can’t _be_ here when that happens and Victoria is still talking and Kate needs her to fucking _move_.

“Are you even listening to me?” Victoria asks and no, no Kate is not.

”Look,” Kate says, _calm_ and _collected_. “Is this important? Because I have things to do and your voice is annoying enough as it is.”

Victoria’s face shifts from red to purple in the space of a few milliseconds and Kate thinks she knows where Nathan picked that little trait up. Or maybe it’s the other way around. “You wanna run that by me again, you pixie bitch?”

Kate can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. What does that even mean? “Victoria, I’m sure any other day, I’d be super intimidated but I really don’t have time. So if you don’t have anything to say, I’m just gonna…” She gestures vaguely at the door, skirting around the very annoyed girl in front of her.

Or she tries. Victoria grabs her arm before she can make it through the exit. “Look, bitch, I don’t make a point to talk to losers like you so you better fucking listen. Something’s up with Nathan and I know you know what it is so just –“

“What are you talking about?” Kate asks because what does _Nathan_ have to do with _anything_? “I haven’t said a word to him since like September.”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you. You might act all innocent and sweet but I know your type and I know you know something so tell me what the fuck is going on with him and maybe Principle Wells won’t find out about the heroin you keep under your bed.”

“Heroin?” _What the_ fuck _is this girl talking about_?

“Well, it’s not there right now but it could be tomorrow. Or the next day or whenever I decide, really.” Victoria smirks, the picture of confidence. But her heart hammering in her chest gives away her anxiety. “So, tell me what I wanna know and all this goes away.”

“You’re lying,” Kate says. She unclenches her fists, stands a little straighter, and glares. “You don’t have anything to plant on me.”

“I have ways of getting it.”

“No, you don’t.”

Victoria’s smirk falters. “You think there’s only one dealer in this town?”

“Actually, yeah, and I know he hasn’t been doing any business since Rachel went missing.”

“Rachel Amber?” Victoria’s eyes harden, white hot rage flitting over her face. “What the fuck do you know about that whore? ‘Went missing.’ Please. She ran away after Mark rejected her sorry ass. She could have gotten him fired, you know.”

Mark? Who…? “You mean, Mr. Jefferson?”

Victoria’s cheeks lose their red tinge. Her face drains entirely, leaving her a pale ghostly white. Kate listens to her heart quicken and steps closer. Victoria steps back.

“Rachel and Mr. Jefferson,” Kate says slowly. The names burn her tongue, like they don’t belong together in the same breath. “What were they to each other?”

“I’m not telling you anything.” Victoria scowls. “Until you tell me what’s going on with Nathan.”

Kate scrubs a hand over her face impatiently. “Look, Victoria, I know this might be hard to understand but most people don’t like watching others suffer. If I knew what was wrong with Nathan, I’d tell you, but I don’t. But if you know something about Rachel, if something happened to her? Then her blood is on _your_ hands.”

Victoria crosses her arms. Kate contemplates just leaving; Chloe’s horn is still honking in the background even if Victoria can’t hear it. But it’s been three weeks of nothing and Kate is desperate.

Finally, Victoria shakes her head. “I really don’t know anything. I know they had sex. And then they stopped seeing each other and she left. I don’t know why.”

Kate bites her lip. There has to be more than that, there just has to be. But the sun is setting and she’s wasted enough time as it is. “Thank you, Victoria,” she says and she means it. “I’ll keep an eye out for Nathan, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for a response, which is just as well since Victoria doesn’t seem too keen on giving one. Her mind is too full of questions without answers – new pieces of a puzzle that just doesn’t fit together.

What on Earth happened to Rachel Amber?

* * *

“She what?” is the first thing Chloe shouts after Kate tells her what she thinks Joyce might know. 

Kate makes sure to emphasize the ‘thinks’ and ‘might’ parts but it doesn’t seem to help.

“Fuck, shit,” Chloe grumbles and yeah, Kate’s been feeling the same way since this morning, too. “Has she been fucking stalking me?”

“Joyce doesn’t seem like that kind of parent,” Max chimes in.

“She didn’t used to be until she married that asshole…” Chloe trails off, eye widening in realization. “It’s David!” she yells after a moment. “He’s been keeping tabs on us; he has to be!”

“He hasn’t been following me for weeks, though,” Kate says.

“Maybe not, but if my mom knows something’s up then he probably knows and he has access to all kinds of spy shit. That’s why I can’t get into his fucking computer! He keeps changing the password!” Chloe pounds her fist on the steering wheel. Max grabs it when the car swerves a little too close to a ditch for comfort.

“Wild speculation aside,” Kate says. “We’ve got other problems. Victoria just asked me what was wrong with Nathan.”

“He’s a narcissistic right boy with an entire hive’s worth of bees up his asshole,” Chloe says. “Seems pretty cut and dry to me.”

“That’s what I thought, too, until Victoria slipped up and told me Rachel and Mr. Jefferson had um…” Kate doesn’t want to say it, especially not after Frank, but it’s really hard skirting around the subject. “A close relationship before she disappeared.”

“Mr. Jefferson?” “Who the fuck is Mr. Jefferson?” Max and Chloe say at the same time.

“He’s our photography teacher,” Kate supplies for Chloe. “That’s just what Victoria said.”

“She could be lying,” Max says.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think she wanted me to know about Mr. Jefferson.”

“Okay so whoever the fuck that guy is,” Chloe grumbles. “He might have had something to do with Rachel.”

“Maybe he was the one teaching her?” Max chimes in. “You said you thought she had someone helping her out with all the werewolf stuff and we know it wasn’t Frank.”

“Mr. Jefferson isn’t a werewolf,” Kate says. “I’d be able to smell it if he were.”

“Not that I doubt your superpowers,” Chloe says. “But I’d hope you don’t spend a lot of time sniffing your teacher.”

“I wouldn’t need to. It’s um pretty pungent.”

“Okay, werewolf or not,” Max says. “He might still have something to do with Rachel. And Nathan might, too, if Victoria says he’s acting weird.”

“Well, Max, you up for a little snooping while Katie takes her run?”

“You guys aren’t going to do anything illegal, are you?” Kate asks.

“Only a little,” Chloe says, shrugging noncommittally. “Hey, it’s for a good cause and you won’t even be there.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. We’re just going to check out the classrooms. No one leaves those locked and even if they do, they’re not alarmed so it’s fine.” Chloe smirks and winks, instantly crushing the last of Kate’s resolve. 

Then Max squeezes Kate’s knee and smiles sweetly. “We’ll be okay. You just focus on you right now,” she says and really that’s just overkill.

Kate sighs thoroughly defeated. She really hopes these two won’t get arrested.

* * *

Chloe drops her off just downhill from the lighthouse. Kate takes a few moments to watch the waves roll in. The sun hangs low over the bay, making the water sparkle. Rays of light wash over the beach in pink and purple hues, casting shadows along the shoreline. It’s peaceful, beautiful even. Kate breathes in the salty ocean air, tinged with sweetness and smoke and gasoline. 

For a moment, the world falls away. There’s no danger or anger or worry – only the seagulls chirping overhead and the two girls standing at her sides. The wind flits through her hair, already down in preparation. It’s freeing, in a way.

“We’ll meet you back here in the morning,” Chloe says. Kate can’t help but notice the uncertainty in her voice.

Kate only nods and pulls the two girls into a hug. The heat of their bodies and strength in their arms comforts her in a way she never thought possible. She inhales deep and slow, savoring their scents.

“I’ll be okay,” she says, pulling back. “It’s you two who should be careful.”

Max smile sheepishly while Chloe punches her gently in the arm. “Hey, have a little faith, will ya?” Chloe says.

Kate smiles in spite of herself. Even with everything that’s been going on – even though she’s more afraid than she’s ever been – if it meant getting to know these two, getting to love these two, she’d do it a hundred times.

They hesitate, all three of them, but the light is fading and Kate still has to trek a quarter mile through dense forest before the moon rises. So Chloe and Max get back in the truck, linger just a little longer than they maybe need to, and set off toward town.

Kate watches and waits. Long after the truck disappears, their scents hang in the air. She takes a deep breath, turns to face the trees, and walks.

* * *

Moonlight shines through the open window, curtains swaying gently in the breeze. 

He picks up a ceramic mug and throws it without direction. It shatters on the wall but it’s not enough, _it’s never enough_.

Shit, fuck, it hurts, it hurts _so fucking much_.

He writhes on the floor. Teeth sharpen and dull, unsure what to do. Claws or nails, it doesn’t matter, it hurts too much. He clenches a fist and he bleeds.

A scream, a howl, a whimper, he can’t tell. It all sounds the same to his ears, dull and soft underneath the sheer agony.

The stereo in the corner plays something, noises, music, who the fuck cares? He hates it, _he hates it._

He grabs the offending object and tries to smash it with his bare hands but they tremble too much and his heart beats too fast and his head hurts so badly. He tears at the couch, the bed, the carpet but it’s not enough. It doesn’t bleed; it doesn’t scream; it doesn’t _die_.

He throws himself at the door. He needs to escape, to run, to hunt, but he has no strength and the door holds firm. He collapses, a mess of choked sobs and dry heaves and he thinks he’s going to die. He’s finally going to die.

He hates this; he hates them; _he hates him_.

* * *

Her blood turns to acid and she’s far too grateful to feel it to dread the waves of pain. Her body wants to run, to transform, but it can’t anymore.

Blood bubbles up from her throat in place of the howl she so desperately wants to let loose. Muscles spasm, a last ditch effort to break through the haze dripping into her veins through the IV line. Her body contorts, bones breaking and mending in an endless cycle. The moon calls to her but she can’t answer.

He’s there with her. He’s in pain, too.

At one time, she’d have laughed, been grateful that he felt even a fraction of the misery he’d put her through. At one time, she’d snarl and howl and tear at her restraints until he forced her back down with some new narcotic. Another endless cycle, on repeat until morning.

He doesn’t bother tonight. There’s no need and they both know it.

She’s going to die soon, maybe not tonight, but soon. And then what will he do?

The wild part of her, the part of her that says to keep fighting, the part of her that tells her to survive no matter what, wants to kill him. It tells her to rip his throat out, begs her to tear the flesh from his bones and eat his _heart_. It’s so angry and she can’t hold onto it.

She’s so angry and she hates him so much but she’s too weak and too tired and it’s been so _long_.

He leans against a metal table, holding the edge so tightly it bends. Things fall, metal hits tile, he goes down, too, but only briefly.

Come morning, the cycle ends.

Come morning, she’s left exhausted, beaten, broken.

She hates this; she hates them; _she hates him_.

* * *

 

Morning light filters through the forest, the curtains, the cracks in the walls. They awaken, bloodied, disheveled, alive. 


	8. Chapter 8

“No, no way,” Kate growls with all the ferocity of her mother that time Lynn tried to wear shorts to church. Chloe and Max both wear an expression somewhere between a gape and a pout, clearly shocked at her tone yet not enough to take her completely seriously.

Kate pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, which is absolutely _throbbing_ by the way. The full moon tugs at her nerves and stabs at her brain and why she needs to go through this for a _second_ night is beyond her. Maybe it’s some kind of divine punishment for not doing Meal on Wheels lately (in her defense, she’s been a little preoccupied).

Her vision flashes between full color and a two tone landscape where the green foliage takes a yellow tinge in stark contrast to the blue-ish roadway. She doesn’t remember them doing that before and she certainly doesn’t remember last month being this _painful_. Of course, she’d been unconscious through most of that and apparently through most of last night as well because she doesn’t remember _that_ either.

Losing time – waking up in the forest, naked, sore, and without any memory of almost thirteen hours of her life – is almost the worst part of this whole thing. It probably would be if it didn’t also feel like her bones were constantly trying to rearrange themselves beneath her skin. It’s like a growing pain times a hundred, harsh and constant. It reshapes her fingers, her jaw, her eyes at seemingly random intervals even during the day. She’s never been so glad the full moon landed on a weekend.

It’s this she has the most trouble with. The other parts – the anger, the heightened senses, the tension in her body – that she can deal with. The lost time, the transforming, and most of all, the isolation are the biggest struggles.

It had been painful running around in the woods a month ago. It had been painful and scary and awful but it hadn’t been this. At least last time she had something to move towards. Now she’s driving to the edge of town just to get away.

Maybe it’s only because she has something to leave now that it’s this bad. Maybe a month ago she barely had an acquaintance in Max and didn’t even know Chloe. Maybe she just didn’t know what was really happening at the time, not enough for it to really affect her at least.

Now Max has a hand on her knee and Chloe’s fingers play with her hair even from two seats away and Kate feels a keen ache in her chest that’s not just growing pains as her body adjusts to the inevitable change.

It’s this ache that makes it all the more frustrating that these two actually want to go back and search the school alone at night _again._

“Hey, nothing bad happened last time,” Chloe insists petulantly.

“Mostly,” Max confesses.

Kate crosses her arms and glares. “Mostly?”

“We didn’t get caught,” Chloe says.

“No, we did _not_ ,” Max says. “But we did set an alarm off.”

“You what?” Kate shouts.

“Max, not helping,” Chloe says.

“Well!” Max waves her hands wildly. “I can’t lie to her! Look at her! She looks like a bunny that wants to murder me and my whole family!”

Kate palms her cheeks. “I do?”

“You kinda do,” Chloe chimes in.

Kate pouts. She does _not_ want to murder anyone. Murder is, in fact, exactly what they’re trying to avoid by driving all the way out here.

“I thought the rooms weren’t alarmed,” Kate says, getting back to the point.

“So did I,” Chloe says. “My paranoid step-douche must have installed them.”

Kate chooses not to point out that it’s not really that paranoid if students actually are trying to break into the rooms.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chloe continues. “David has keys to all the classrooms; I’ll just swipe them and then boom, no alarm.”

“No, you will not,” Kate says. “It’s just too dangerous.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Thanks, Mom, but I can handle myself.”

“Look,” Max interjects. “I’m on Kate’s side with this one. If we get caught, and don’t say we won’t because we almost did.”

Chloe snaps her mouth shut.

“I could lose my scholarship and you could be arrested!” Max finishes.

Chloe sighs. Her eyebrows turn up and she just looks so defeated and Max is weak and Kate is weaker. “It just feels like we’re close, you know?” she says. “We finally have something after a fucking month and I’m just worried we’ll lose her.”

Max puts a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, no need to ask who ‘her’ is. “I’m not saying we never check it out again,” she says. Her voice is soft and soothing. Kate feels her headache subside just a little bit. “But we shouldn’t go tonight. David’s going to be more suspicious than usual, especially if his keys go missing, and Kate’s the only one who’ll know when he’s coming.”

Damn it, now Kate’s going to have to go on a midnight search in her own school. Chloe’s house had been enough for a lifetime.

Kate sighs. The things she does for these girls.

“I know.” Chloe heaves another sigh. “I know. It’s dangerous and we need to be careful and whatever. I don’t… I don’t _want_ to get you guys in trouble. I just… Rachel’s been missing for so long and I don’t know what happened to her or if she’s safe or if she’s even alive and I just don’t want to lose anymore time.”

Chloe wipes an eye with her thumb and Kate has no idea what to say. Kate doesn’t know Rachel. In some ways, she feels like she barely knows Chloe.

But she loves Chloe and in some ways, she feels like she loves Rachel, too. Not in the same way and not to the same degree, but there’s _something_ there. Maybe it’s kinship for another werewolf. Maybe it’s just sympathy for another girl who got in way over her head.

Kate doesn’t think she’ll ever really know how Chloe feels. Her loss, her grief, her pain – those are Chloe’s alone and Kate can’t pretend to really understand. But she knows what it feels like to want to find Rachel. She knows, just a little bit, what it’s like to love Rachel.

So she pulls Chloe into a long, firm embrace as soon as they step out of the car and Chloe doesn’t hesitate to return it. Max hangs off to the side for just a second before two arms reach out and pull her in. Kate stands there for too long, inhaling their scents. For once, it’s Kate and Max who are solid walls for Chloe to lean on.

Kate feels tears well up behind her eyelids. They’re not painful or sad or even tears of joy. They just are, the same as this love just is – indescribable yet all-encompassing.

“Hey now,” Chloe says softly. There’s a little smile in her voice. “Don’t cry or I’ll have to comfort you and you don’t want that. Trust me, it’s not pretty.”

Kate shakes her head and wipes her face. “I cry all the time. You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

Chloe looks like she’s about to say something else but then Max sniffs audibly. Chloe smirks, gentler than usual. “Aw, see what you do?” she says. She throws her arms back around Max and ruffles her hair. “You made Maximus cry.”

Max snorts. “Maximus?”

Chloe just shrugs. “Well, they can’t all be winners.”

Max laughs and then Chloe laughs. Kate watches from the sidelines yet she doesn’t feel like an outsider at all. This is love, she thinks. It always has been.

* * *

Kate hangs her blouse as neatly as she can over a tree branch. She looks around for the sixth time but neither her ears nor her nose catch anything out of the ordinary. “Get a grip,” she whispers to herself.

Crickets start to chirp as the last vestiges of sunlight dip below the hilltops. Kate can feel the night under her skin, in her blood, igniting her nerves and rattling her bones. It doesn’t hurt anymore, not really. It’s as if her body knows what to do, no longer pulled in opposite directions by the sun and moon.

Kate glances around just in case before removing the rest of her clothes. She shivers against the October wind and crosses her arms over her chest. Her face heats up even though she’s alone. If her mother could see her right now...

She crouches behind the tree, partly because of the cold, partly to hide herself. Of all the things she’d ever thought she’d have to do, standing naked in the woods waiting to turn into a wolf monster is pretty low on the list.

The air changes, so subtly Kate thinks it might just be the wind. She lifts her chin and smells the air but there’s nothing. She shakes her head. _Calm down, Kate_ , she tells herself.

Something snaps, a twig, a branch, she doesn’t know. Her legs move faster than she can process the noise, aware of something before her brain can catch up. She darts through the woods, weaves through trees and brush. Her feet scarcely touch the ground as she flies over dirt and stone and sparse patches of dried grass.

She hears them now, footsteps behind her, chasing her. They’re heavy and loud and too slow and too quick all at the same time. Her teeth sharpen, snarl caught in her throat. She runs faster.

A shot rings out like an explosion. She smells blood before she feels the sharp, agonizing pain in her left shoulder. She stumbles, clutching her arm. Blood falls like a waterfall, hot and thick over her fingers.

Two more shots in quick succession hit the tree to her right. _Shit, shit, shit!_ Part of her mind tells her to turn around and charge. Tear them to pieces; make them bleed and choke and _die_. But her body doesn’t listen. She keeps running, slower now. Rocks dig into her heels, tearing into her flesh but it doesn’t matter, _it doesn’t matter_. Someone’s trying to kill her and she needs to run, _she has to run!_

More shots, she doesn’t know how many. A bullet grazes her side, taking a chunk of skin along with it. Another shot hits her right ankle. Bone cracks, shattering under her own weight. Her foot bends out at a ninety degree angle, snapping her fibula and she falls hard. Her nose breaks on impact. She gags. The scent of her own blood overpowers everything around her and she can’t _move_ , she can’t _run_.

Her muscles spasm, rolling her onto her back against her will. The full moon shines high in the sky.

More bones break and reform. Her nails lengthen and sharpen and turn black. She clenches a fist and there’s more blood and more pain. Too many teeth crush her jaw, forcing it to reshape. The sound bangs against her skull but she can barely hear it; the ringing in her ears is too loud. Tendons tear, muscles restructure, her arms are too long and her legs are too big and everything feels so _alien_ , like her body doesn’t belong to her.

Someone tall and imposing steps over her but who are they? _Who are they?_

They raise their arm. Kate stares down the barrel of a gun through golden irises.

Then the world goes black.

* * *

 

Kate awakens to the morning sun just starting to filter through the trees. Birds chirp and wind blows and it’s so oddly peaceful, it takes her several moments to notice the war zone around her.

Trees bent and broken, claw marks and holes marring the bark; grass has been kicked up as if something heavy has been dragged through it. Bullet casings litter the ground around her. There’s blood _everywhere_ and she’s sure most of it’s her own.

Kate bolts upright and can actually hear her ribs crack before she feels it. Fresh blood scents the air, clearly leaking from _somewhere_ but there are so many wounds, she can’t tell which one reopened. Her whole body aches and stings and it’s so _cold_.

She falls back, unable to do anything other than breathe for a while. Her heart thuds wildly in her chest. Something happened last night but she can’t _remember_.

When she can lift her arms, Kate scrubs her palms over her eyes. She feels the sparse remnants of fur on her cheeks and has a moment of vanity in which she really hopes it goes away soon.

She doesn’t take much stock of her injuries. Her shoulder hurts, her ankle hurts more, and her head hurts more than that. Slowly, she rolls onto her stomach. Her body screams in protest as her weight shifts to rest squarely on her organs. Her sternum doesn’t break, though, so she takes that as a good sign.

She manages to reposition herself onto her hands and knees. Her side is what’s bleeding, she realizes. Her arms shake, barely able to hold her up. She takes a deep breath and tries not to vomit at the strong smell of iron.

She gets to her feet, unsteady but standing. She has to lean against the tree; her ankle throbs excruciatingly painful. When she actually looks at it, she sorely wishes she hadn’t. Her foot bends away from her body at an angle it shouldn’t be able to. Tears well up at the sight alone but it’s so much _worse_ when her foot actually rights itself without her trying. The bones re-break, sending her back to the forest floor as another wave of agony rushes through her body. She feels the tendons realign like a centipede crawling around under her skin. Bile rises in her chest and she has to look away.

And then it’s over.

The pain all but vanishes, going from white hot torture to a dull ache as if she’d broken her ankle weeks ago, not last night. She bends it just a little, back and forth, but it’s completely healed. When she stands, it holds her weight with minimal complaint.

It’s the first time she’s actually _seen_ her body heal itself and she’s none too eager to see it again.

Kate takes a look around and instantly realizes she has no idea where she is. The forest is so damaged; she doubts she’d be able to recognize the area even if she were familiar with it. She glances toward the horizon but she can’t see the lighthouse _anywhere_. She didn’t even think that was possible.

There’s too much blood to pick out any one scent that might help her get home, not that she has a reference point anyway. There’s no gasoline or hot asphalt to direct her anywhere in particular this time.

Kate wipes her eyes. She’s naked and lost and cold and bloody but she’s alive. She is _not_ going to die out here.

Suddenly, a horn blares, disturbing the careful peace crafted behind the trees, and Kate’s never heard a more beautiful sound in her _life_.

Without a thought, she takes off towards home.

* * *

 

Kate clears the trees, bloodier and dirtier than she’s been in her entire life, and immediately smacks into Chloe’s truck.

She has half a second to register the two girls screaming in the car before collapsing to the ground. She lies in the dirt for a while, chest heaving with exhaustion. She’s never been so happy to be hit by a car.

She passes out somewhere between Chloe and Max frantically rushing to her side and actually getting into the truck. By the time she’s cognizant enough to realize she’s actually laying down with a blanket covering her body and her head in Max’s lap, they’re already speeding down the road into town.

It takes Kate another few seconds to realize that her companions are knee deep in an argument. They’re half shouting, half whispering, probably trying not to wake her, though it’s a little too late for that. She curls her knees in further, nuzzling Max’s thigh. The sweetness of her scent mixed with Chloe’s is nearly enough to put Kate to sleep again.

Nearly.

“Are you even listening to me? We need to get her to a hospital! Now, Chloe!”

“And tell them what! That our friend got shot at last night in the middle of the woods? What do you think they’re going to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe help her!”

“They’re going to call the fucking cops, Max!”

“She got shot! Why aren’t _we_ calling the cops?”

Even in her half conscious, Kate knows _that’s_ a bad idea. They can’t take her to the hospital and they can’t call the cops because the cops will call her mother and then she’ll get pulled out of Blackwell _and then_ she’ll have to deal with all this on her own and that is not a thought she’s willing to entertain.

Kate tries to find Max’s hand bit she’s shaking too badly and she can’t open her eyes. Her palm lands on Max’s knee instead. She squeezes it, or she tries to. She’s so weak she doesn’t think Max feels it but a moment later there’s a hand over hers and fingers in her hair. Kate takes a deep breath. She feels her throat gargle and coughs up what tastes like blood. Her ribs don’t crack, though, which she takes as a good sign.

“No hospital,” she wheezes.

She feels Max squeeze her hand. “You need help,” Max whispers.

“No hospital,” Kate repeats. Her voice is so quiet, she’s not sure Max can even hear her. “Take me home.”

The car is silent for a few moments. Kate figures that’s the end of it and tries to fall back asleep with little success.

She can hear Max’s heartbeat, quick and angry. Chloe’s is the same. The tension hangs in the air like a gas leak just waiting for a spark but Kate doesn’t have the energy to feel nervous.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Max whispers.

Chloe makes a noise between a snort and a scoff. “We can’t stop now,” she says. “Someone attacked her; we need to find out who.”

“Chloe.”

“We can’t just stop now! We’ve come so far and Rachel’s still missing!”

“I don’t give a fuck about Rachel!” Max swallows audibly. Kate thinks she already regrets saying the words but apparently not enough to take them back. “Kate’s risking her life to help you. What about her?”

“That’s _not_ fair and you know it.”

“ _None_ of this is fair!  She almost died!”

“So, what? We just stop? After all this, you want to give up and let Rachel die?”

“That’s _not_ what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? Because to me it sounds like you want to abandon me just like last time!”

“My friend didn’t get shot last time! Chloe, look at her! Look at this! This is dangerous! And she told me and I didn’t listen and look what happened!”

“I didn’t want this! Max, listen-“

“No, you listen! We’re not doing this anymore. I know how much Rachel means to you but how do you think she’d feel if you died looking for her?”

Chloe doesn’t respond. The truck turns sharper than necessary.

Max sighs. “We can’t keep doing this,” she whispers. Her voice cracks like she’s trying not to cry. “Not like this.”

The car is silent for the rest of the ride. By the time they pull into the Blackwell parking lot, Kate’s positive both girls are crying.

Kate feels the lump in her throat but she doesn’t have the strength to cry with them. She’s too drained to comfort them and too lightheaded to contemplate their words. ‘We can’t keep doing this.’ Max isn’t wrong but…

But…

She doesn’t have time to think. Chloe and Max pull her gently from the truck and she feels herself being lifted onto someone’s back. Chloe’s, her nose supplies for her. 

It’s kind of strange. The cigarette smell she’s come to associate with the girl seems faded. It’s there, the same as vanilla has permanently attached itself to Max, but less so. Kate actually kind of misses it.

She feels herself slipping back into unconsciousness and tries her hardest not to. Not yet, at least. She wants to stay like this a little longer, warm and bathed in unidentifiable sweetness radiating from the girl she’s clinging to. It’s different from Max – distinguishable. Yet the feeling is undeniably similar.

Something inside Kate relaxes. Maybe it’s been like that the entire way here and she’d just been too wrapped up in listening to notice. Her body doesn’t hurt anymore, not like it had. Her mind stills and goes quiet. Despite everything, she feels safe.

She doesn’t think about what that means; she falls asleep before she can.

* * *

 

“No, no, no, don’t eat that.”

Kate’s return to the waking world is slow and gentle, filled with soft sunlight and a softer voice. She stretches lazily across a bed she knows isn’t hers but it’s much too warm and smells too sweet for her to worry about that right now. She sighs heavily. The last bit of tension leaves her body; relief washes over her like a summer rainstorm.

“I know she’s not a very pretty plant, but you need to be nice to her.”

A faint thumping accompanies the voice. Kate’s lips quirk at the corners.

The voice isn’t actually what prompts her to awareness. It’s just the first thing that registers to her brain and lets her know exactly who the bed belongs to.

Max huffs. “You can’t chew on Lisa and that’s final,” she says. Her voice holds little resolve.

Kate cracks an eye open. She can just barely make out Max sitting against the wall beneath a window. The plant beside her has more than a bit of noticeable damage to the leaves, courtesy of Alice no doubt. Said rabbit flops aggressively onto her back right in front of the plant. It’s pretty much the cutest thing ever.

Kate finds herself torn between joining the two and not wanting to ruin the moment. The whole scene is so oddly domestic. It’s exactly the kind of thing Kate always imagined she’d wake up to when she was married with kids. Yet it still feels like something is missing.

It’s this tangible absence that gets Kate to actually sit up and alert Max to her presence. “Morning,” she says through a yawn.

Max smiles in return. “Mor-ning…” she trails off at the end, cheeks turning an alarming shade of red.

Kate tilts her head curiously. “Max, are you-?” It’s then that a particularly strong gust of wind drifts through the window, prickling her bare skin and oh.

Oh dear.

Kate’s not sure why her sleep heavy mind decides it’s a good idea to throw a pillow at Max in its panic, but that’s what she does. Max squeaks as the projectile hits her squarely in the face while Kate scrambles to cover herself with the blanket. Alice seems remarkably unfazed.

This is probably number two on the list of things Kate never thought she’d do.

She should probably update that list actually. She has a feeling there’s quite a bit on there that she’s already done.

Max shakes her hair out. She clutches the pillow, mouth set in a determined line. For a moment, Kate’s sure Max is going to throw it at her in retaliation. Her fingers twitch with anticipation – naked or not, her body, at least, is ready for a pillow fight.

But Max doesn’t throw it. Instead, she sets it down and picks up Alice before making her way over. She hesitates at the end of the bed. Several emotions flit across her face but Kate couldn’t name them if she tried. She can’t tell if Max is upset or worried or something else entirely. The two lock eyes and Kate notices for the first time that Max’s are actually blue and not grey like she’d first thought. They’re beautiful, Kate thinks absently.

Max is the first to turn away. She all but heaves herself onto the bed with an exhausted sigh. (Alice, meanwhile, settles onto Max’s chest and starts to nibble on the front of her shirt; Kate should probably reprimand her but Max doesn’t even seem to notice.)

“How are you feeling?” Max asks. When she turns her head, Kate can definitely see the worry in her eyes (blue eyes; it’s such a pretty color).

“I’m fine,” Kate replies and she’s not lying. She’s not sore or even tied really. Just… “A little dirty,” she mumbles. She tries running her fingers through her hair. Yeah, she definitely spent the night in the woods.

Max bites her lip but seems to believe Kate enough for some of the worry to leave her face. “We should’ve gone to the hospital,” she says anyway.

Kate frowns. “I’m fine, Max. Really. The hospital would have just…” She pauses, searching for the right words to explain why werewolf plus busy hospital is a bad idea. “Complicated things.”

“’Complicated things’?” Max sits up so fast Alice has to jump off her chest and onto the floor. “Kate, this is already the biggest shitstorm of the century. You almost died last night!”

Kate flinches despite herself. It’s not the first time she’s been yelled at but it still makes her throat close and her chest tighten.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Max says. She throws herself back onto the bed and scrubs a hand over her face. She looks so tired. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just so… ugh.” She rolls onto her side to fully face Kate.

“When I saw you this morning,” she says. “I was so scared you were going to die. You were bleeding and then we couldn’t get you to wake up and I was so afraid that you would die and I just…”

Kate reaches a hand out. Max clings to it like a lifeline. She’s crying, just a little in the corners of her eyes. “You don’t have to worry so much.” Kate tries to laugh, just enough to lighten the mood a little. What comes out sounds strangled and pathetic. “I’m pretty tough now. All these werewolf superpowers, you know?”

Max’s grip on her hand only tightens. “Kate, someone shot you.”

Kate’s forced smile falls. Someone shot her, more than once. Someone broke her ankle and ripped her side open.

Someone tried to kill her.

Kate feels her abdomen with her free hand. Of course, she can’t feel any injury. Heck, she watched her ankle fix itself in the forest just hours ago.

“You were right,” Max says. “This is too dangerous for us to handle. I should’ve listened. I’m sorry.”

A frown tugs at Kate’s mouth. Something swells in her chest – melancholic yet strangely defiant and protective all at once. For what, she’s not entirely sure. It’s instinctive, not unlike the wolf in her blood, but it feels completely different. She squeezes Max’s hand.

“We can’t just give up on Rachel,” she says.

Max sits bolt upright again, expression torn between anger and confusion. “Kate, you-“

“I didn’t, though,” Kate interrupts. “I’m alive, Max. And I think Rachel is too.”

“Kate, this isn’t just about Rachel. We could actually die.”

“Max, whoever shot me did it before I transformed. They know what I am. Do you think it’ll just stop if I walk away?”

All traces of anger fall from Max’s eyes only to be replaced by abject horror. Kate has to look away.

“I can’t change what I am, not anymore,” she says. “It’ll probably always be dangerous for me. But I think…” She hesitates. It’s just a feeling, a gut feeling like the one that tells her to run on the full moon, and a flimsy one at that. And yet… “I think the sooner we find Rachel, the less dangerous it’ll be for all of us. I want to find Rachel and I want to know what’s going on. If someone is already out there, looking for me, then I’m not…”

_I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world._

Kate gathers her courage and steels her resolve. “I’m not giving up.”

Max wavers, biting her lip like she’s trying not to say something. She’s clearly far from convinced, and Kate can’t blame her. But for now, she seems unwilling to argue. She releases Kate’s hand with a heavy sigh. “You should take a shower,” she says.

Kate nods and starts to peel herself from the bed. “What time is it?” she asks. “Suppose church is already finished.”

“It is…” Max checks her phone. “10:42. So probably over? I don’t actually know; never really been.”

“Too late for the one I’ve been going to.” Kate sighs. Maybe that’s why she got shot. Maybe God’s just mad at her for not attending service like she should be.

“We could still get tea, if you wanted,” Max says. She’s fidgeting, body a bit stiff and voice a bit strained. She might not agree, but Kate thinks she at least understands the need to find Rachel.

So, she smiles, at bright and sweet as she can manage. “I’d like that.”

* * *

 

While Kate’s beginning to doubt showering after a full moon will ever really be a pleasant experience again, this time isn’t awful. Or not as awful as it could have been.

Kate grimaces as she watches the water run red around her feet. There’s dried blood caked in her hair and stuck to her skin and there’s no way Max’s bed doesn’t look like a complete disaster. No wonder she’d been so worried this morning. Kate resolves to make it up to her if she’s ever able to get her hair clean.

She squeezes a glob of shampoo onto her hand for the third time and has about as much success working it through her hair as the previous two. By now her nose is all but numb to the scent but she will admit, it hadn’t been unpleasant at first either.

Max loans Kate some of her stuff, further cementing that she’s a beautiful angel who deserves to be cherished and loved and protected. Cucumber Melon may not be Kate’s favorite scent in the universe, but it does save her from having to trek back to her own room and then to the showers covered in blood, dirt, and still naked.

The best part is definitely the Vanilla Orchid body wash, though, if only because it’s so _Max_. It’s oddly validating having an official name to the scent Kate’s simply come to know as Max. She resists the urge to scrub it over her body more than once because she doesn’t want to waste it; then realizes that she has to when the smell of her own blood completely overpowers anything remotely nice about the wash.

It’s a nice metaphor for her life, really – the inherent violence that seems to come with being a werewolf ruining anything that might be cool about it. Chloe might go on about werewolf powers turning Kate into some kind of superhero, but she doesn’t want to be a werewolf herself. Kate can’t blame her.

Max chooses that moment to return, breaking Kate from her morose train of thought. She’s talking to Chloe on her phone outside of the shower room but Kate can’t make out any distinguishable words over the water rushing around her. Max sounds… not quite tense but close to it. She’s sighing a lot but it’s hard to tell why without any context. Kate doesn’t try to listen in; she can barely even hear Chloe’s end at all.

Max isn’t on the phone for very long. It’s less than a minute before the door opens and Max’s hesitant footsteps echo over the tile. “I brought clothes,” she says. “And a towel.”

“Thanks. Was that Chloe?” Kate asks even though she already knows.

“You heard?” Max sounds strangely anxious and Kate kind of wishes she tried harder to eavesdrop. Are they still fighting? Kate had assumed they’d make up by the time they got her to Max’s room – it just came so naturally to them.

“I heard you talking,” Kate says after realizing she’s been silent for a few moments too long. “I couldn’t really hear what you were saying.”

Max hesitates, which Kate takes to mean she and Chloe are probably still fighting. “Chloe finally got into David’s computer,” Max says.

At first, Kate barely remembers what Max is talking about. Then she wants to jump up and down and scream and thank Jesus because _three weeks_ and Chloe finally got into that stupid computer.

Max, however, seems less than enthused. Kate reels herself in enough to ask, “What was on it?”

“A lot apparently,” Max says. “She didn’t get really specific. She’s meeting us at the café.”

“That’s good, though. We might actually get somewhere.”

“Depends on what’s on it but it’s more than we had.”

Conversation lapses as Kate finishes washing herself. She shuts off the water when she’s finally able to run her fingers almost all the way through her hair. That’s as good as it’s going to get.

Kate sighs and steps out of the shower. She realizes half a second too late that she’s naked and Max, the girl she’s in love with (well, one of them; still a discussion she should probably have with herself but not right now), is kind of right there.

Max stands a foot in front of Kate’s face, towel slung over her arm, eyes wide as saucers. Her face turns beet red and Kate knows her own cheeks have the same idea.

Kate’s first instinct is to run back behind the shower curtain but her feet suddenly forget how to walk (which is kind of ironic considering she’d had no problems throwing a pillow at Max’s face less than an hour ago and oh God, this is the second time Max has seen her naked today alone).

Kate stands frozen in place and dripping wet. Droplets fall over her arms, her back, her chest, and onto the floor, collecting in a sizable puddle that gets Max’s shoes wet but said girl doesn’t seem to notice. Kate almost manages to convince herself that it’s the water making her skin prickle and flush. Her heart thuds in her ears. She listens closely and hears Max’s is much the same.

Kate’s not sure what’s happening. She’s showered with girls before, undressed around them, and been nude around them. It never bothered her before so she never thought anything of it. It certainly didn’t make her feel like _this_ – hot and exposed and yet, bizarrely comfortable. She doesn’t mind Max seeing her naked; she’d seen her earlier anyway and even before then in the woods.

But this is different. Kate’s not covered in blood and dirt anymore. She’s not injured and only half conscious and there’s no safety blanket to hide behind. This is something else entirely and Kate finds that she doesn’t mind. Actually, she might kind of, sort of like it just a little.

Another thought for another time. Max recovers first, thrusting the towel into Kate’s arms and turning her face away in the process.

Without eyes on her, Kate finds it much easier to cover as much of her body as she can. Shame bubbles up in her gut and she can’t face Max right now anyway. What was that all about?

Kate’s not stupid. She knows what sexual attraction is and what it’s supposed to feel like but she’s never actually _felt_ it before. This is new and it’s scary and it’s everything her mother told her not to do.

Kate shakes her head. She can _not_ think of her mother right now. She can’t deal with any of this right now. She’s got a missing girl to find and a potential murderer to deal with. Now is not the time for romantic… things.

Max hands Kate the blue button up dress she still hasn’t given back to Chloe (not that Chloe’s been missing it). It doesn’t smell much like mothballs or smoke anymore but it’s still nice and it’s softer after having been washed. Max also hands her a set of undergarments and Kate pointedly does not think about Max going through her underwear drawer. Another time, _another time_.

“You really do heal fast,” Max says as Kate’s buttoning the collar.

Kate blushes and honestly, she’s surprised her face hasn’t been permanently pigmented yet. Maybe it has; she hasn’t looked in the mirror yet.

Kate says nothing on the subject of healing or other lycanthropic superpowers. Instead, she hands the hairbrush to Max and waves a tie between her fingers. “Braid my hair?”

She can’t actually see Max’s smile but she still knows it’s there. Max’s fingers are gentle and nimble and Kate can’t help but sigh, content in a way she hasn’t felt in a month.

* * *

 

Chloe’s standing outside the café smoking a cigarette by the time Max and Kate walk the half block from the closest bus stop. Chloe stamps out the cigarette as soon as she sees them but it’s not enough to stop Kate’s nose from inhaling the scent of something like…

“Cinnamon?” Kate wonders aloud.

Chloe quirks a brow. “Herbal cigs,” she says, cheeks flushing light pink. “Trying to quit. Or cut back at least.” She gives Kate a quick once over, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Cute dress.”

Now it’s Kate’s turn to smirk. “You hate this dress.”

Chloe shrugs. “Well, it looks cute on you.”

Max clears her throat, though Kate can tell it’s mostly for dramatics. “If you two are done flirting, we did come here for a reason.”

“Oh, Max, you haven’t _seen_ me flirting yet,” Chloe says with a wink that makes Max blush. Kate giggles just a little bit.

“You, uh,” Max stutters. “Seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“Better than I was and you’ll know why once I tell you my plan.”

“You have a plan?” Kate asks. This can’t be good.

Chloe rolls her eyes as if she already knows what Kate’s thinking. “Yes, I have a plan and it won’t even get us killed. Probably. I also want a muffin so let’s head inside maybe?” She doesn’t actually wait for them to respond. She throws the double doors open with more force than necessary and dashes inside.

Max and Kate share a look. “I’ll buy,” Kate says. She turns to open the door but Max stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Max says softly. “Do you think…? I mean, doesn’t this feel weird?”

Kate tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me and Chloe are still kind of fighting aren’t we?”

“Are you?”

“We were over the phone. Kind of. I mean…” Max heaves a frustrated sigh.

Kate puts a hand on her arm and gives it a squeeze. “You two had a disagreement.”

Max crosses her arms and gives Kate a stern look. She doesn’t shrug off Kate’s hand. “You almost died.”

Kate frowns. She can’t bring herself to meet Max’s eyes. “I did.”

“This is dangerous.”

“It is.”

“You want to keep going anyway?”

Kate nods without hesitating. “I do.”

Max fidgets – taps her foot, shifts her weight, little ticks that give away her apprehension. Finally, she nods back. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Kate asks. Is it really…?

“Okay.” The word is firm and Max is solid. Kate feels something change but she’s not sure what. It’s like a weight’s been lifted only to have another take its place. Still, she doesn’t think she has to bare this burden alone. Max won’t let her and neither will Chloe.

Speak of the Devil. “If you two are done flirting, we did come here for a reason,” Chloe says from behind them. Kate spins around; she hadn’t even heard the door open.

Max only smirks. “You haven’t _seen_ me flirting yet.”

Chloe snorts but she’s smiling. “You’re cute but your delivery needs work. Now come on, I actually am hungry and I have a shitload of stuff to show you.”

As the three walk through the doors together, Kate feels something shift again, but this doesn’t feel like a weight at all.

* * *

 

“What the fuck?” Max whispers.

Kate agrees with the sentiment, though she doesn’t say anything. She can barely form coherent thoughts at the moment. “What is all this?” she manages to ask.

“Everything I could find,” Chloe says. She leans back in her chair and takes a sip of her coffee.

Papers litter the table, at least a hundred if not more, most of them pictures and all of them printed from David’s laptop. They’re subject matter varies wildly – license plates, the junkyard, the school, inside the school, inside _Chloe’s_ _house_ , Kate’s even pretty sure she spots a barn in there somewhere, and so, so many people. There’s at least one of every student, teacher, and staff member at Blackwell, about a dozen of Kate (all of which are old, thank God), several of Chloe, Max, Frank, even Rachel from before she disappeared, about twenty of Nathan Prescott, no less than five of _Mr. Jefferson_ , and two of a man Kate doesn’t recognize.

One in particular stands out – a screenshot from a security camera of Rachel and Chloe _inside_ _Chloe’s bedroom_. The angle is awkward, clearly taken from inside a vent, but Rachel is definitely lying on Chloe’s bed with her head on Chloe’s knee. Even with the covers pulled all the way to her chin, Kate can see blood on her face.

This hadn’t been her first transformation, had it?

Chloe gingerly plucks the paper from Kate’s hands. “This was the second time,” she says. “Back in February before she knew what she was doing. She wouldn’t let me go to the junkyard with her and ended up at my house anyway.” Chloe’s smile softens, tinged with something like nostalgia. “She was human by then. Climbed up the side of my fucking house just to get through my window. Again.”

Chloe sets the picture down amidst the pile while Kate tries to process what she’s just been told. Just how long has David been looking into this?

“There’s so much shit here,” Max says, still stunned from the information overload.

“There’s more,” Chloe says. She shifts around some of the papers and pulls out one of the few non-pictures.

Max takes the page and sets it down so Kate can see it. There’s text lined down the page, what look like license plate numbers along the left column, strings of latitude and longitude measurements in the middle, and dates on the right. The number at the top right corner tells Kate this is only page two of _fourteen_.

“Those are GPS coordinates,” Chloe says, pointing to the numbers in the middle. “And this.” She points to one of the plate numbers on the left. “Is _my_ license plate.”

“He’s been tracking you?” Kate asks even though she already knows the answer.

“For almost eight months.” Chloe glares at the paper as if she expects it to shrivel up and disappear at her disapproval. “Dates start a month after Rachel turned, least for my car.”

Max sifts through the documents, organizing them by page number. “This is a lot to go through,” she muses.

Kate and Chloe both follow her lead and begin organizing the pages into coherent piles on the table, drinks all but forgotten.

Going through the papers, however briefly, while cleaning them up, Kate can see that ‘a lot’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. By the time they’ve finished getting everything vaguely categorized, there’s more than ten piles on the table, most of which have fifteen sheets or more.

The biggest pile is only as thick as it is because the papers don’t all fit on the table. It’s full of pictures of people, mostly students and teachers at Blackwell, all of whom only have a single picture out of everything. Chloe dubs this miscellaneous and sets it off to the side. “We can go over all these later,” she says. “I’m more interested in this.” She grabs the second largest stack of pictures – twenty five pages of Nathan Prescott’s face.

“Well,” Max says, taking the proffered stack from Chloe. “If I didn’t suspect him before, I definitely do now.”

“That’s where my plan comes in,” Chloe says. “I want to know how that fuckboy’s connected to all this.”

“So your plan is to…?”

“Break into his room and take a look around.”

Chloe says it so naturally, Kate doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. When she sees Max’s equally enthusiastic expression, she knows she’s doomed and they’re all going to get in so much trouble. “Can I list all the reasons why that’s a bad idea or should we skip it and move right into the planning stage?” she asks.

“That’s the spirit,” Chloe says, cheeky grin plastered on her pretty face.

Max pats Kate on the back. It does little to sooth her.

“We all have science lab on Tuesdays,” Max says. “We could do it then.”

“One of us should be in class,” Kate says. “Just in case he leaves early or something.”

Max nods. “I’ll stay. You’ve got the superpowers; I’ve got the phone.”

Kate sighs. Yeah, she figured it would come to that.

“Hey, cheer up,” Chloe says. “Don’t think of it as breaking and entering. Think of it as quality time with me.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Kate says only a little sarcastically.

Chloe snorts indignity. “Hey, I’m great company.”

“I never said you weren’t.” Kate takes a sip of her tea. It’s cold but the cup hides her warming cheeks. This flirting thing is kind of fun.

Apparently, Max sees it because she almost chokes trying to hide her laughter. Kate elbows her gently in the ribs.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Haha, you’re so funny I forgot to laugh. Now are you going to invite me back to your room so we can go over all this shit or what?”

The three gather their belongings and amble out to Chloe’s truck. Kate wonders idly if she’ll ever be able to get homework done again.

* * *

 

Tuesday rolls around much faster than Kate would have liked.

Despite spending almost all of Sunday sifting through papers and matching coordinates to license plates to various locations, they’d only managed to get through about a quarter of the information before Kate actually started crying from eye strain.

Needless to say, she hadn’t gotten any homework done. But she did manage to spend a solid half hour rereading the Book of Matthew aloud while Max and Chloe took an unexpected nap. At least Alice had been awake to hear it.

Currently, Kate’s waiting for Max outside of her Language of Photography class, heart pounding in her chest. She tells herself it’s because she sprinted here and not because they’re going to meet with Chloe to do something most definitely illegal.

_Relax_ , she tells herself. She takes a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it. Finding Max’s scent is second nature to her now. _Nathan can’t kill you in the school_.

Probably.

Kate sighs. She wonders what it says about her that she’s more anxious now than after she got shot.

Max walks out of the classroom a moment later, breaking Kate out of her reverie, and she’s not alone.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Jefferson says from behind Max. “Kate, could I talk to you for a minute?”

Kate tenses instinctively. She forces herself to swallow the growl bubbling up in her throat. He’d been in the picture pile more than once; that had to mean something. Kate just doesn’t know what yet.

“Wait for me?” she asks Max in a way she hopes sounds casual.

Max nods. “I’ll be here.”

Kate thinks she sees something flash in Mr. Jefferson's eyes when he glances at Max but it’s gone too quickly for her to tell. Instead he smiles, charming as ever, and motions her into the classroom, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, don’t be nervous,” he says, moving to lean against his desk.

Kate forces her muscles to relax despite her stomach lurching almost painfully. She clenches a fist to hide her claws. _Relax_ , she tells herself. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?” she asks as neutrally as she can.

Mr. Jefferson's smile falters just slightly. “Kate, you seem distracted lately,” he says. “Now, I know it’s cliché, but I just want you to know that you can talk to me. As your teacher, I’m here to help but I can’t do that unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kate says too quickly. She flinches at his skeptical look. “I’ve just been busy, I guess. Lot of homework, you know?”

“Right,” he says. “Being a student isn’t as easy as people from my generation like to think. Especially not when you’ve got other things to deal with.”

Kate frowns at the double meaning in his words. Does he…? He couldn’t. Could he?

Suddenly his hand is on her shoulder and Kate can’t stop herself from jumping. When did he get so close?

Something like anger flashes in his eyes, so briefly Kate doesn’t think she’d have been able to see it if she weren’t already so on guard. Then he smiles and lets his hand drop. “Well,” he says. “If anything changes, you let me know. I only want to help you, Kate.”

He steps away from her, going back to leaning on his desk. “Go on, then. Wouldn’t want to keep your friends waiting.”

Kate makes herself walk calmly out of the door. What the _hell_ was that all about?

Max is on her in an instant, taking her by the elbow and leading her down the hall. “What did he want?”

Kate spares a quick glance behind her. “Nothing, really,” she says. “He just told me I could talk to him if I needed to. He said he could ‘help me.’”

“Do you think he knows something?”

“I think so but I don’t know what.”

Max rubs a hand through her hair. “Shit.”

_Shit indeed_ , Kate thinks.

* * *

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kate asks for the ninth time since reaching the boys’ dorm.

Chloe groans. “Yes, Katie, this is a good idea. We’ll get in, find as many clues as we can, and get out. Super easy.”

Kate nods. Right, searching for clues – detectiving 101 or something. Max is just a building over, watching Nathan herself. It’ll be fine.

…

“I just don’t know if-“

“Kate, we’ll be fine.” Chloe barely even sounds annoyed; they’ve been having this same conversation for so long.   
”Okay but what if-“

“Whoa.” Chloe stops so abruptly that Kate runs into her back. “Think this is it?” she asks.

Kate rubs her nose (Chloe’s back is _way_ more solid than she’d have thought) and peeks around Chloe’s shoulder.

The door in front of her is largely the same as the other dozen or so on the floor except for the fact that it’s completely trashed.

The door itself sports a huge crack right down the center. It’s falling out of the frame, scarcely held upright by the bottom hinge. What’s more the jamb is broken and the knob is missing entirely.

So yeah, this might be the one they’re looking for.

“Least it’s unlocked,” Chloe says. When she pushes it open, it drags along the carpet and causes it to fold in on itself. The carpet is only doing that, Kate discerns, because it’s torn to pieces, along with the entire rest of the room.

Cloth shreds litter the floor alongside foam stuffing from the tattered sofa. There are things everywhere, most of them broken –a lamp, a stereo, drawers, a computer monitor, dozens of books and CDs, Kate thinks she even spots a projector somewhere in the pile.

What the ever-loving _fuck_ happened here?

“Holy shit,” Chloe says. “Did a velociraptor come through here or some shit? What the fuck is all this?”

Kate grimaces. “So, in and out, huh?”

Chloe sighs. “Just start looking.”

It would help if either one of them knew what to look for but that’s really neither here nor there at this point. Kate takes the left side, closer to the bed while Chloe takes the right.

The first thing Kate notices is, of course, just how wrecked everything really is. The curtains have been torn down, there’s glass everywhere, and the bed looks like it’d been housing a lion for the better part of the school year.

_Or something else._

“So,” Kate starts. “Guess we know who our fourth werewolf is.” Four of them; how are there _four_ werewolves in Arcadia Bay?

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” Chloe says. “Can you smell anything?”

Kate takes a deep breath, searching for a scent. There’s smells all around – Chloe’s herbal cigarettes, wood, cologne – but there’s something missing. It doesn’t smell like anyone’s been here in weeks.

“I can’t smell anything,” she says. “It’s like Nathan’s never even been here.”

“Well, we both know that’s not true,” Chloe says. “Is this kind of like that black hole Nathan-smells-like-nothing thing?”

Kate nods. It’s jarring not being able to smell his presence in the room. Chloe’s room is scented to the point of pungent. Werewolf or not, it’s easy to tell that Chloe spends most of her time there. Even in Max’s room, for all its candles and bath stuffs left in the open, it’s not hard to smell the lingering odor of someone living there. Nathan’s room doesn’t have that. He might as well be a ghost.

“That’s been bothering me for a fucking month,” Chloe says without preamble. “Like, okay I’m not a werewolf, but no one smells like _nothing_. Not naturally, anyway.”

“You think something’s making him that way?” Kate asks.

Chloe pauses then nods. “What else could it be?”

“It makes sense,” Kate says, slowly. It does make sense but there’s nothing that can _do_ that; that’s the problem. “What could make someone lose their scent?”

“We’ll have to find out,” Chloe says resolutely.

* * *

 

An hour and ten minutes later, Max sends Chloe a text asking if they found anything. The answer is no, of course, but Chloe keeps sifting through the mess on the floor anyway.

Kate, having joined her some time around the forty five minute mark, is about ready to scream. She’s been going over their conversation in her mind and something keeps nagging at her.

“Okay,” she says after reading Max’s text. “Here’s where I’m at.”

Chloe takes the excuse to throw herself onto the floor. “Please share with the rest of the class. I’m about ready to gouge my own eyes out.”

“So Nathan’s definitely a werewolf, right?” she starts. “There’s no way a normal person could have done all this.”

Chloe nods. “Right, and?”

“So okay, he’s a werewolf meaning he would have transformed Saturday like me, right?”

Chloe sits up, interest piqued. “Right.”

“What did Rachel look like when she transformed?”

“Giant scary wolf monster.” Chloe shifts to sit on her knees facing Kate. “Like almost as big as my truck giant.”

“Right,” Kate nods. “And that door.” She points to the trashed entrance. “Is still standing.”

“Barely. But I guess you’re right...” Chloe trails off. Her eyes widen at the sudden epiphany. “There’s no way it would still be standing if he turned into a truck sized wolf two nights in a row.”

“And if he’d been in the woods, this.” Kate gestures to the disaster around them. “Wouldn’t have happened at all.”

“So, somehow he didn’t transform during the last full moon.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Kate bites her lip, thumb running over her chin. “But how?”

Chloe doesn’t have time to answer before her phone buzzes. “It’s Max,” she says. “We’ve got ten minutes to find out.”

“Better get started then.” Kate stands and holds a hand out for Chloe. She pulls the taller girl up with ease.

“Hey,” Chloe says softly. She doesn’t let go of Kate’s hand. “I know I can be kind of a shithead sometimes but I… I’m really grateful, you know? That you’re doing this for me.”

Kate smiles. This girl. “Chloe,” she says just as softly. “I love you but I’m not doing this for you.”

Chloe’s face falls, eyes almost painfully sad. She looks away.

Kate’s having none of that. She takes Chloe’s face in her palms and turns it gently, staring hard into her too blue eyes. “I want to find Rachel just as much as you do,” she says. “You’re not making me do anything I don’t want to. And you’re certainly not a shithead.”

For a moment, Chloe seems too stunned to move. Then she takes one of Kate’s hands and leans into her touch. The world pauses, however briefly, just for the two of them.

Chloe’s eyes flicker to Kate’s mouth and… She wouldn’t. Would she?

Not that Kate would mind.

Kate feels her cheeks warm at the thought. Her eyelids flutter just slightly.

Chloe’s phone buzzes suddenly, startling Kate enough for her to take a step back and onto something that crunches under her foot. She has half a second to mourn the death of the moment before the thing under her foot starts to smell, demanding her attention.

“We have about five minutes to get the hell outta dodge,” Chloe says frantically.

“Wait,” Kate says, kneeling down.

Chloe kneels down beside her. “K I know I said nothing bad would happen but that’s kind of contingent in the not getting caught thing and Prescott is on his way like right now.”

“I stepped on something,” Kate says. “It broke.”

“Yeah there’s a lotta that in here. Now let’s go.”

Kate ignores her. She shifts around some of the clothes on the floor until the bitter stench wafts into the air. It’s so potent it makes Kate reel back and cough. “You don’t smell that?” she asks.

“What are you talking about? Smell what?” Chloe lifts something that might have been a jacket. Underneath, emitting the horrible stink, lies a crushed hypodermic needle and a vial full of dark purple liquid. “What the hell?”

Kate has just enough time to think the same thing before she blacks out.

* * *

 

He lights up a cigarette, first he's had in almost three days. Leaning heavily against the side of the building, he takes a long drag. The smoke is harsher on his lungs than it used to be. He hardly notices. He doesn't even think he can get cancer anyway.

His phone buzzes like it has been all morning. He ignores it. What part of 'I'm fucking busy' does this dickhead not understand?

He flicks the cigarette butt uncaringly to the side, lighting another before it even hits the ground. It helps, marginally. Keeps him from doing something stupid like smashing his phone or killing the kid. Not that he could right now.

The quads in his right leg spasm briefly. It doesn't hurt, nothing does anymore. Just an annoying side effect.

_The price of a life_ , he thinks idly.

He finally picks up his phone after finishing his second cigarette. "Is this important?" he drawls.

"Where the fuck have you been? I've been calling you all fucking day."

"Busy," he spits. "I do have a day job, you know."

"Watch the attitude."

He rolls his eyes. Right, he's the one with the attitude. "As fun as it is talking to you, did you actually have a point? Or did you just call because you missed the sound of my voice?"

The old man grumbles indignity over the line. Gotta have fun where you can. "Did you fine one, yet?"

He hums thoughtfully. "Maybe."

"How soon before we can get rid of her?"

He tsks the old man lightly. How callous. Not that he's one to talk. "Don't be so hasty," he says. "I need time. This one isn't like her. _She'll_ actually be missed."

"We don't have time!"

"Well, we're going to have to make time then. Your rat bastard spawn might make a good replacement. Unless you're volunteering?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Probably not but neither would you." He pinches the bridge of his nose only to realize it's bleeding again. "I don't think I need to remind you that one wrong move and things end very badly for both of us. Let me handle this, okay?"

He hangs up before the old man can shout his undoubtedly scathing reply.

Whatever.

He lights a third cigarette. Much as he hates to agree with the old fucker, he's got a point. They don't have much time - a month maybe, at most.

Blood starts to drip onto the pavement, forcing him to stamp out his half finished cigarette. A month is plenty.


End file.
